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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Minutemen to the rap 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Kinks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sam Rivers,
Pagans,
Stereo Dub,
Albert Ayler,
Make Up,
Bobby Byrd,
Fela Kuti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dave Gahan,
Avey Tare,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moleskins,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Todd Rundgren,
Roger Hodgson,
Tres Demented,
The Five Americans,
Suicide,
Scientists,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marvin Gaye,
Boredoms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Circle Jerks,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wire,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Babytalk,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rufus Thomas,
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
Flipper,
Max Romeo,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Happenings,
Moebius,
EPMD,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.