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 Ivory Coast and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Howard Jones,
AZ,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Scrapy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minor Threat,
Skaos,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maleditus Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
In Retrospect,
The Vogues,
Marvin Gaye,
The Shadows of Knight,
KRS-One,
The Gun Club,
Crispy Ambulance,
Das Ding,
Drexciya,
Graham Central Station,
Clear Light,
the Human League,
Steve Hackett,
The Doors,
Wolf Eyes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Modern Lovers,
Moss Icon,
FM Einheit,
Joensuu 1685,
Swans,
Guru Guru,
Au Pairs,
David Bowie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Tim Buckley,
Black Flag,
Minny Pops,
Wire,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
Sixth Finger,
Liliput,
Marshall Jefferson,
June of 44,
Avey Tare,
The Fall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Iggy Pop,
The Knickerbockers,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.