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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Wasted Youth 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
Ludus,
Magma,
Subhumans,
Kaleidoscope,
The Standells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
CMW,
Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Terry,
The Residents,
Al Stewart,
Harpers Bizarre,
Outsiders,
Ultravox,
The Five Americans,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ice-T,
Organ,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Faust,
Bluetip,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Christie,
Absolute Body Control,
Royal Trux,
Connie Case,
Newcleus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ken Boothe,
The Smoke,
Main Source,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vainqueur,
Dual Sessions,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.