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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 R.M.O. to the grunge 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Peter and Kerry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Susan Cadogan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soft Machine,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Supertramp,
The Fortunes,
The Zeros,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang On A Can,
Al Stewart,
Throbbing Gristle,
R.M.O.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
June Days,
Neil Young,
Von Mondo,
Blake Baxter,
Accadde A,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Womack,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Television Personalities,
Goldenarms,
Underground Resistance,
Q65,
Gregory Isaacs,
Warsaw,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
The American Breed,
Pole,
kango's stein massive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
Guru Guru,
These Immortal Souls,
Eve St. Jones,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dave Clark Five,
Groovy Waters,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.