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 Kiribati and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Vladislav Delay to the grunge 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
kango's stein massive,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pierre Henry,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
Rekid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hot Snakes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Flag,
Dorothy Ashby,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Bourne,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Todd Terry,
Prince Buster,
The Blackbyrds,
Pole,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Ludus,
Bronski Beat,
Davy DMX,
The Mojo Men,
The Modern Lovers,
The Five Americans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smiths,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
The Stooges,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
Ken Boothe,
Smog,
Crash Course in Science,
Masters at Work,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.