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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Soul II Soul to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Gun Club,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barry Ungar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
48th St. Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers,
Slick Rick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scan 7,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Moon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
One Last Wish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Happenings,
Basic Channel,
Flash Fearless,
The Litter,
Howard Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
The Selecter,
Junior Murvin,
Rod Modell,
Smog,
UT,
Can,
Ronnie Foster,
Lindisfarne,
R.M.O.,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Desert Stars,
The Smoke,
Mandrill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jacques Brel,
The Dirtbombs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
Das Ding,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Make Up,
Suicide,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.