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 Romania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 The United States of America to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Banda Bassotti,
The Standells,
Second Layer,
Joy Division,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
David Axelrod,
Moby Grape,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Near,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Brass Construction,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Shuggie Otis,
Model 500,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Unrelated Segments,
Dead Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Qualms,
Oneida,
Bronski Beat,
Icehouse,
The Durutti Column,
Lightning Bolt,
Graham Central Station,
Deakin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang On A Can,
The Dead C,
The Kinks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
Y Pants,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hasil Adkins,
Blake Baxter,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Chris Corsano,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.