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 Iran and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Metal Thangz to the dance 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Lower 48,
Peter & Gordon,
Fear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerri Chandler,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Skatalites,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Whodini,
Joe Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Brand Nubian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alice Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Blake Baxter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Television,
Pole,
Gang Green,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Thompson Twins,
Television Personalities,
Yazoo,
The Motions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Gang of Four,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ossler,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Sheep,
Interpol,
John Cale,
Visage,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Todd Terry,
The Raincoats,
Lightning Bolt,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Lynne,
Lyres,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.