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 Cuba and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Birthday Party to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
Black Bananas,
Davy DMX,
Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Theoretical Girls,
Dave Gahan,
The Birthday Party,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Audionom,
John Lydon,
The Raincoats,
Little Man,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Qualms,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Althea and Donna,
Ornette Coleman,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
Khruangbin,
Idris Muhammad,
Negative Approach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed,
The Fugs,
Deepchord,
Trumans Water,
Los Fastidios,
Scratch Acid,
Junior Murvin,
Brick,
EPMD,
Buzzcocks,
Crime,
10cc,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Charles Mingus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
China Crisis,
Deakin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eden Ahbez,
Pere Ubu,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
CMW,
Technova,
The Slits,
The Monks,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.