Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Haiti and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Birthday Party to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amazonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marine Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fugazi,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
Ten City,
The Gap Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boz Scaggs,
Laurel Aitken,
Loose Ends,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Au Pairs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra,
Slick Rick,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lungfish,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
New York Dolls,
The Knickerbockers,
Main Source,
Franke,
The Music Machine,
Q65,
Althea and Donna,
Pantaleimon,
The Happenings,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.