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 Czech Republic and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Deadbeat to the disco 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Bronski Beat,
LL Cool J,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
48th St. Collective,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Silicon Teens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra,
Slave,
Smog,
Talk Talk,
Maurizio,
Au Pairs,
Stereo Dub,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Bill Wells,
Marshall Jefferson,
Juan Atkins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
ABBA,
The Gap Band,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed,
The Moleskins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Suicide,
The Sound,
Das Ding,
The Zeros,
Lungfish,
Shoche,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can,
Zero Boys,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultimate Spinach,
Excepter,
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.