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 East Timor and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Traffic Nightmare to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
Newcleus,
The Dirtbombs,
Moby Grape,
Fluxion,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
Interpol,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Pretty Things,
FM Einheit,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Peter & Gordon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Simply Red,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
Black Flag,
The Toasters,
The Doors,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
Agent Orange,
Zapp,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.