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 San Marino and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Sixth Finger to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Birthday Party,
Davy DMX,
Robert Wyatt,
Masters at Work,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Symarip,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Sheep,
Shuggie Otis,
Skarface,
Altered Images,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Japan,
The Index,
The Blackbyrds,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
Lungfish,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
The Golliwogs,
Ultra Naté,
Monks,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lower 48,
Make Up,
Derrick Morgan,
Cameo,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
Jandek,
Dead Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Pylon,
Andrew Hill,
Vainqueur,
Matthew Halsall,
Spoonie Gee,
Archie Shepp,
Marine Girls,
Inner City,
Carl Craig,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marshall Jefferson,
a-ha,
The Modern Lovers,
Echospace,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.