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 South Africa and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Minutemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Smiths,
Fluxion,
Siglo XX,
Negative Approach,
Eric Copeland,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Index,
Newcleus,
DNA,
Pylon,
Nick Fraelich,
The Remains,
Arab on Radar,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Yaz,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
Quando Quango,
Erykah Badu,
Pagans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Bad Manners,
The Selecter,
Ossler,
Ituana,
the Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heaven 17,
Faraquet,
Kurtis Blow,
Technova,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
The Motions,
Gang Starr,
CMW,
Bluetip,
The United States of America,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Barrington Levy,
Supertramp,
The Litter,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.