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 Kuwait and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Ponytail to the rap 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter 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?
Bobby Womack,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed,
Barry Ungar,
Albert Ayler,
Suicide,
Sparks,
The Black Dice,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Juan Atkins,
Japan,
Joe Smooth,
Outsiders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Qualms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pantaleimon,
Bang On A Can,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Excepter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vladislav Delay,
The Trojans,
Scratch Acid,
Janne Schatter,
Danielle Patucci,
Rosa Yemen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moebius,
Rapeman,
Franke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
The Pop Group,
Mars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cameo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Boz Scaggs,
KRS-One,
cv313,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Magazine,
The Cure,
Interpol,
Connie Case,
Shoche,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.