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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Bang On A Can to the techno 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
Deepchord,
Eddi Front,
The Misunderstood,
Deadbeat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scientists,
Bobby Sherman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pulsallama,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Agitation Free,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Enemy,
Connie Case,
Audionom,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Aloha Tigers,
The Trojans,
Mo-Dettes,
Spoonie Gee,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dawn Penn,
The Names,
The Selecter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amon Düül II,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rotary Connection,
Prince Buster,
Sex Pistols,
Lebanon Hanover,
Royal Trux,
Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
The Grass Roots,
Youth Brigade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
Arthur Verocai,
AZ,
David Axelrod,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.