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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Bronski Beat,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Outsiders,
Bill Wells,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding,
Severed Heads,
Ultravox,
Au Pairs,
Yaz,
Sight & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cheater Slicks,
Grey Daturas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
Tubeway Army,
John Holt,
ABC,
Derrick May,
Scrapy,
Excepter,
Swell Maps,
Parry Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gories,
Suicide,
The Offenders,
Joyce Sims,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sister Nancy,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
Soul Sonic Force,
PIL,
Lightning Bolt,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Gong,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.