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 Guatemala and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 David Axelrod to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wolf Eyes,
Archie Shepp,
Oneida,
The Pop Group,
The Barracudas,
The Seeds,
A Certain Ratio,
The Associates,
H. Thieme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Halsall,
Kerri Chandler,
Mantronix,
Average White Band,
Sällskapet,
Cluster,
Black Bananas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry's Kids,
Scrapy,
Youth Brigade,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Y Pants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scan 7,
the Human League,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faust,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
Sixth Finger,
Basic Channel,
Q65,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Birthday Party,
The Dirtbombs,
Letta Mbulu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
Mission of Burma,
The Slackers,
Lower 48,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
Siglo XX,
Black Sheep,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Laurel Aitken,
X-102,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.