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 Zambia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Seeds to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monks,
June of 44,
Excepter,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gories,
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang of Four,
Soul II Soul,
Warsaw,
Scrapy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Leonard Cohen,
Radio Birdman,
Dark Day,
Magma,
Maurizio,
Charles Mingus,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Görl,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
Public Enemy,
The Kinks,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Junior Murvin,
Dennis Brown,
the Germs,
Mr. Review,
Qualms,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Liliput,
D'Angelo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stetsasonic,
Duran Duran,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cameo,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
Das Ding,
Mark Hollis,
Schoolly D,
Sixth Finger,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.