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 Libya and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Black Sheep,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
Minny Pops,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
The Beau Brummels,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Tremeloes,
Max Romeo,
The Smiths,
Bush Tetras,
The United States of America,
The Doors,
The Knickerbockers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
48th St. Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
PIL,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Terry Callier,
The Motions,
The Cramps,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Sherman,
Hardrive,
Fugazi,
The Happenings,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
DNA,
The Evens,
Robert Hood,
The Shadows of Knight,
KRS-One,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Nas,
The Slits,
One Last Wish,
Schoolly D,
Archie Shepp,
Jacob Miller,
ABBA,
Whodini,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.