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 Sri Lanka and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Swans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
The Mummies,
Radiopuhelimet,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donny Hathaway,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Masters at Work,
Ohio Players,
The J.B.'s,
Throbbing Gristle,
Can,
Brothers Johnson,
OOIOO,
The Saints,
Scientists,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Bauhaus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Knickerbockers,
Guru Guru,
Dead Boys,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
Depeche Mode,
Bill Near,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lucky Dragons,
The Slits,
Harmonia,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sonic Youth,
Chrome,
Todd Terry,
The Moleskins,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls,
Laurel Aitken,
Pagans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gories,
Half Japanese,
The Skatalites,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deadbeat,
Altered Images,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.