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 Germany and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
The Gun Club,
The Barracudas,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Kinks,
Bush Tetras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
Pagans,
Newcleus,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius,
Colin Newman,
John Foxx,
Bobby Womack,
The Moleskins,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Görl,
Minnie Riperton,
Kurtis Blow,
Heaven 17,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Japan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Darondo,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
Gong,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Ituana,
Aloha Tigers,
Malaria!,
H. Thieme,
E-Dancer,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Scrapy,
The Sound,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
Bill Wells,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.