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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin 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 Pretty Things to the dance 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Harmonia,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scan 7,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gun Club,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Marine Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Traffic Nightmare,
Second Layer,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
48th St. Collective,
Erasure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Porter Ricks,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
The Last Poets,
Drive Like Jehu,
H. Thieme,
The Offenders,
Todd Rundgren,
Swell Maps,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Carl Craig,
The Stooges,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Index,
Gong,
New York Dolls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.