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 Vanuatu and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
One Last Wish,
MC5,
Quadrant,
Jerry's Kids,
Visage,
Wire,
The Cowsills,
The Move,
Monolake,
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gun Club,
Gabor Szabo,
Maurizio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Normal,
The Young Rascals,
Josef K,
The Cure,
Patti Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Donald Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Beau Brummels,
Wolf Eyes,
The Offenders,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Young Marble Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Sex Pistols,
Agent Orange,
Ludus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lakeside,
The Seeds,
China Crisis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Con Funk Shun,
Lee Hazlewood,
Inner City,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Cameo,
June Days,
The Slackers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.