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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Los Fastidios,
Cameo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Saccharine Trust,
Buzzcocks,
The Gladiators,
Youth Brigade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Howard Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
Chris & Cosey,
Newcleus,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultravox,
Harmonia,
The Slackers,
Cheater Slicks,
Scientists,
Hashim,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
the Sonics,
Erasure,
Joe Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Essential Logic,
Colin Newman,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
Robert Hood,
Guru Guru,
Swans,
The Star Department,
John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Henry Cow,
Q and Not U,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marvin Gaye,
Cluster,
Alphaville,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
Tom Boy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
La Düsseldorf,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.