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 Nepal and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
Make Up,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Anakelly,
Godley & Creme,
Silicon Teens,
B.T. Express,
Danielle Patucci,
Youth Brigade,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
the Bar-Kays,
Yusef Lateef,
Delta 5,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doors,
Minutemen,
Visage,
Cluster,
Ituana,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
MC5,
Amon Düül II,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tom Boy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Icehouse,
June Days,
Tim Buckley,
Peter & Gordon,
DJ Sneak,
10cc,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Blake Baxter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
The Star Department,
Harry Pussy,
Stereo Dub,
LL Cool J,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.