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 Cambodia and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Man Parrish 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Lydon,
Franke,
OOIOO,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
In Retrospect,
The Star Department,
The Zeros,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Bourne,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
The Names,
Mandrill,
Von Mondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
The Sound,
Bad Manners,
Sexual Harrassment,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler,
Echospace,
Royal Trux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Young Rascals,
Gong,
Nas,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
The Divine Comedy,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
The Index,
Jawbox,
Joe Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boz Scaggs,
KRS-One,
Ludus,
Tomorrow,
Joy Division,
Bauhaus,
10cc,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.