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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
John Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pere Ubu,
The Index,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
Visage,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Kinks,
Alice Coltrane,
Joy Division,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
Scion,
PIL,
Shuggie Otis,
Adolescents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Youth Brigade,
Eddi Front,
John Lydon,
Stetsasonic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Underground Resistance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Schoolly D,
Hot Snakes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marine Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Pussy Galore,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mr. Review,
New York Dolls,
R.M.O.,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
X-102,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.