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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Dead Boys to the dance 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Lalann,
D'Angelo,
The Real Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Pagans,
Monolake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
FM Einheit,
Goldenarms,
The Associates,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
10cc,
ABBA,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Albert Ayler,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zapp,
Chris Corsano,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
the Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
The Invisible,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amon Düül II,
Cluster,
Animal Collective,
Black Bananas,
The Electric Prunes,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Blancmange,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Ronnie Foster,
Swans,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Agitation Free,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q65,
Youth Brigade,
John Holt,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moss Icon,
Bush Tetras,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.