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 Fiji and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lungfish to the jazz 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Schoolly D,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zapp,
Eden Ahbez,
The Tremeloes,
Swans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eddi Front,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-101,
Drexciya,
Davy DMX,
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
The Gories,
Amon Düül,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
Severed Heads,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
One Last Wish,
Pussy Galore,
David McCallum,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Style,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
The New Christs,
Alton Ellis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Technova,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ornette Coleman,
Fear,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Erykah Badu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
New York Dolls,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras,
Lungfish,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.