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 Nigeria and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco 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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultravox,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Tubeway Army,
Theoretical Girls,
The Wake,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Fela Kuti,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Association,
Michelle Simonal,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
EPMD,
Rites of Spring,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
Josef K,
Gang of Four,
Alton Ellis,
David Bowie,
Unwound,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Mills,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Birthday Party,
The Raincoats,
Eurythmics,
New Order,
Symarip,
Gang Green,
The Human League,
Basic Channel,
Dead Boys,
Hoover,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
The New Christs,
Heaven 17,
Sound Behaviour,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Görl,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.