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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the grunge 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
The Modern Lovers,
Barbara Tucker,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
Ituana,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slave,
Scientists,
Wasted Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Royal Trux,
Rekid,
Moebius,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Motorama,
Qualms,
Nas,
Bill Wells,
B.T. Express,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang of Four,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Magma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alice Coltrane,
Roxy Music,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Juan Atkins,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Albert Ayler,
Crooked Eye,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soulsonic Force,
Agent Orange,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kool Moe Dee,
Carl Craig,
Derrick May,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.