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 Norway and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Anthony Braxton to the grime 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade 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?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Trojans,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Skarface,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
Gang Gang Dance,
Average White Band,
Monolake,
Warsaw,
Sonic Youth,
Black Flag,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minnie Riperton,
Flash Fearless,
Arthur Verocai,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Smog,
China Crisis,
The American Breed,
The Raincoats,
Josef K,
Pole,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
Crime,
Gang Green,
Black Sheep,
Kaleidoscope,
Godley & Creme,
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
The Wake,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
the Germs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gories,
Moebius,
Lou Reed,
Moss Icon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blancmange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skaos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ituana,
X-Ray Spex,
Eli Mardock,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.