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 Dominica and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the disco 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Cal Tjader,
Nick Fraelich,
Kas Product,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Green,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grauzone,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Subhumans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
New Order,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
The Saints,
The Monks,
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
Grey Daturas,
Excepter,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Basic Channel,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Television,
Altered Images,
Barry Ungar,
Yaz,
Public Enemy,
kango's stein massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arab on Radar,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Smog,
Heaven 17,
Reagan Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
Vladislav Delay,
John Foxx,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.