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 Peru and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Mantronix,
Newcleus,
Symarip,
the Swans,
MC5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ossler,
The American Breed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
Tres Demented,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
Alton Ellis,
Ten City,
Minutemen,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suicide,
Essential Logic,
World's Most,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
Ornette Coleman,
Duran Duran,
Camouflage,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
R.M.O.,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pagans,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.