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 Tajikistan and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shuggie Otis to the funk 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Soft Machine,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
The Moleskins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roxette,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bronski Beat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harmonia,
Robert Wyatt,
Fluxion,
Camouflage,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Smooth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Subhumans,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Sister Nancy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Archie Shepp,
Urselle,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thompson Twins,
Minor Threat,
The Detroit Cobras,
The J.B.'s,
PIL,
Juan Atkins,
The Residents,
Infiniti,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Hoover,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Star Department,
Can,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Motorama,
David Axelrod,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.