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 Latvia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Birthday Party to the electroclash 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
The Martian,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Gang Dance,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Cluster,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eurythmics,
Chrome,
Moebius,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Flipper,
Crooked Eye,
Infiniti,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fortunes,
Mission of Burma,
Boredoms,
Skaos,
Newcleus,
Urselle,
Dead Boys,
Basic Channel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Red Krayola,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Yazoo,
Make Up,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jandek,
Bad Manners,
David Bowie,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vladislav Delay,
LL Cool J,
Ultravox,
FM Einheit,
Sun City Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Byrd,
Joy Division,
the Germs,
Archie Shepp,
Bang On A Can,
June of 44,
Joyce Sims,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.