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 Benin and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Remains 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Panda Bear,
Public Image Ltd.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Starr,
Spoonie Gee,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Depeche Mode,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Charles Mingus,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
Index,
Don Cherry,
DJ Sneak,
Joey Negro,
Zapp,
Marc Almond,
The Fuzztones,
Lalann,
Eli Mardock,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gong,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grey Daturas,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Schoolly D,
The Vogues,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
Cluster,
Excepter,
Arcadia,
Loose Ends,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hashim,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.