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 Marshall Islands and from London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Dead C to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Charles Mingus,
Gabor Szabo,
The Names,
Vainqueur,
New Order,
Absolute Body Control,
The American Breed,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
Skarface,
Leonard Cohen,
Aloha Tigers,
Blancmange,
Scratch Acid,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Maleditus Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Young Rascals,
The Fuzztones,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
The Skatalites,
Niagra,
Roy Ayers,
The Smoke,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
The Busters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
Barbara Tucker,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.