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 Syria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anakelly to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Crooked Eye,
Sonic Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slave,
Sight & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Royal Trux,
The Fall,
The Victims,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
Skarface,
Carl Craig,
Sam Rivers,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Names,
Fugazi,
Desert Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
A Certain Ratio,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
the Human League,
Scott Walker,
Marvin Gaye,
Dark Day,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Smooth,
Gabor Szabo,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
The Index,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
Rotary Connection,
Quantec,
Grauzone,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
Slick Rick,
Fela Kuti,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.