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 Grenada and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
AZ,
Dawn Penn,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric Dolphy,
Sound Behaviour,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ituana,
Carl Craig,
The Misunderstood,
Technova,
The Five Americans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mandrill,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
Circle Jerks,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lakeside,
Brand Nubian,
Talk Talk,
Minnie Riperton,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gong,
Amazonics,
Roxy Music,
the Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Theoretical Girls,
Ohio Players,
Blake Baxter,
Pantaleimon,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.