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 Albania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Knickerbockers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
John Cale,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pantytec,
Chris Corsano,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minnie Riperton,
Minutemen,
Yazoo,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fall,
China Crisis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gories,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Joyce Sims,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stetsasonic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
FM Einheit,
Adolescents,
Can,
Main Source,
UT,
The Names,
Trumans Water,
Robert Görl,
Chrome,
Hasil Adkins,
Rotary Connection,
Isaac Hayes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
Blancmange,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
The Modern Lovers,
Intrusion,
Roxette,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
The Golliwogs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Germs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Deakin,
Excepter,
Technova,
Boz Scaggs,
Suburban Knight,
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.