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 Guyana and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Boredoms 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Cell,
the Association,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Panda Bear,
X-102,
48th St. Collective,
Sarah Menescal,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Görl,
Bluetip,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brass Construction,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Yaz,
Q and Not U,
Rapeman,
Ohio Players,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Jacques Brel,
D'Angelo,
Roger Hodgson,
UT,
Saccharine Trust,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eden Ahbez,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Wyatt,
Circle Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
Colin Newman,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Pierre Henry,
Rod Modell,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.