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 Korea South and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Junior Murvin,
Pagans,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gun Club,
the Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T. Rex,
Hasil Adkins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Warren Ellis,
Fluxion,
John Lydon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Franke,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gong,
Organ,
The Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Christie,
Fad Gadget,
Aswad,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
The Victims,
Soul II Soul,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gladiators,
Joe Smooth,
Tubeway Army,
Swans,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Donny Hathaway,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
Motorama,
Lyres,
Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül II,
Rotary Connection,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Derrick May,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.