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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 The J.B.'s to the rap 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Loose Ends,
Audionom,
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Monolake,
Eli Mardock,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Sister Nancy,
Popol Vuh,
Parry Music,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
the Germs,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Dolphy,
Second Layer,
JFA,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
Yazoo,
Pylon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Animal Collective,
Pole,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sound,
Khruangbin,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Sparks,
The Misunderstood,
Stetsasonic,
Todd Terry,
Wire,
The Dead C,
Slave,
Monks,
Rekid,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
John Lydon,
K-Klass,
The Gap Band,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.