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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 The Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Human League,
Cluster,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Little Man,
Camouflage,
Rod Modell,
Basic Channel,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Pierre Henry,
Nas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Prince Buster,
Marc Almond,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Remains,
Scan 7,
Organ,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ponytail,
The Buckinghams,
Kerrie Biddell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harmonia,
Popol Vuh,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Last Poets,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reagan Youth,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
Visage,
Warren Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
10cc,
Rapeman,
The Cure,
The Mummies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Sherman,
Skriet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.