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 Uruguay and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cheater Slicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Associates,
Severed Heads,
Kerrie Biddell,
DNA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fall,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hashim,
Minny Pops,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mojo Men,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Sheep,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül II,
Second Layer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Stooges,
Eurythmics,
David McCallum,
Public Image Ltd.,
F. McDonald,
LL Cool J,
One Last Wish,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
E-Dancer,
Letta Mbulu,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
B.T. Express,
Robert Hood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Outsiders,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.