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 South Sudan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 Royal Trux 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
Althea and Donna,
The Red Krayola,
Morten Harket,
Bronski Beat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
The Mojo Men,
Icehouse,
Henry Cow,
The Cure,
Howard Jones,
The Doors,
Warsaw,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Can,
MC5,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doobie Brothers,
Quadrant,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick May,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
Porter Ricks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Urselle,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
Camberwell Now,
John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Easy Going,
Q and Not U,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agent Orange,
Dark Day,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.