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 Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
Infiniti,
Faraquet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Severed Heads,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Babytalk,
Audionom,
X-102,
Ponytail,
Pole,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Martian,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Neu!,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Metal Thangz,
The Fall,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Slits,
Scrapy,
Nas,
Fela Kuti,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
Eric Copeland,
Yaz,
Aloha Tigers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
The New Christs,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Detroit Cobras,
kango's stein massive,
Reagan Youth,
The Kinks,
Negative Approach,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Malaria!,
Gabor Szabo,
Crime,
KRS-One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Josef K,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.