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 Comoros and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar 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 Toasters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Ken Boothe,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Glenn Branca,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Isaac Hayes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cameo,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
June of 44,
X-101,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Niagra,
Fela Kuti,
Iggy Pop,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
Unwound,
Pylon,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
The Moody Blues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Excepter,
Royal Trux,
Faust,
Todd Rundgren,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Sherman,
Soulsonic Force,
Yellowson,
Sun City Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vladislav Delay,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
Susan Cadogan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Womack,
The Blues Magoos,
X-102,
Public Enemy,
Black Moon,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Von Mondo,
The Doors,
Quando Quango,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.