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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 World's Most to the dance 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Oneida,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
The Move,
Outsiders,
Charles Mingus,
Nik Kershaw,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Knickerbockers,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marine Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Order,
The Moody Blues,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick Morgan,
Suicide,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aaron Thompson,
Marvin Gaye,
Audionom,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Zeros,
Mr. Review,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barry Ungar,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Buckinghams,
cv313,
Funky Four + One,
Slave,
Soul II Soul,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Wasted Youth,
Intrusion,
The Remains,
Pantytec,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
PIL,
Mission of Burma,
The Misunderstood,
Anakelly,
Q65,
The Martian,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.