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 Ireland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
Masters at Work,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sällskapet,
Chris Corsano,
The Neon Judgement,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mantronix,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Invisible,
The Gladiators,
the Association,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hoover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kayak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dark Day,
Zapp,
Andrew Hill,
Brick,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Prince Buster,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
L. Decosne,
The Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neu!,
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siglo XX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
The Gun Club,
Fad Gadget,
Das Ding,
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.