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 Tehran.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 Stereo Dub to the rap 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
The J.B.'s,
Scrapy,
EPMD,
Essential Logic,
Easy Going,
Albert Ayler,
Arthur Verocai,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Siglo XX,
Black Sheep,
AZ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
Neu!,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
Technova,
Tubeway Army,
Nas,
Slave,
Urselle,
Accadde A,
New York Dolls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Ten City,
Godley & Creme,
Mark Hollis,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blues Magoos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Crooked Eye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Can,
Mantronix,
Susan Cadogan,
Darondo,
the Soft Cell,
Mad Mike,
Babytalk,
Tim Buckley,
Scientists,
Pantaleimon,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
The Monochrome Set,
Tomorrow,
The Leaves,
John Holt,
Sound Behaviour,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.