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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 The Velvet Underground to the grime 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
The Mummies,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slackers,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Real Kids,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Sherman,
Agent Orange,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
the Swans,
T. Rex,
Anthony Braxton,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Count Five,
The Modern Lovers,
Nico,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare,
Moss Icon,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick Morgan,
Josef K,
Barbara Tucker,
Zero Boys,
Pierre Henry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blossom Toes,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
The Cramps,
Flash Fearless,
Lakeside,
Black Bananas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Sparks,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.