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 Somalia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barbara Tucker,
Nas,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Sherman,
Magazine,
Angry Samoans,
Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Alphaville,
Alton Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suburban Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
LL Cool J,
The Toasters,
The Fortunes,
Audionom,
Cymande,
Au Pairs,
Cameo,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Organ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moss Icon,
Yusef Lateef,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
Maurizio,
Jandek,
Youth Brigade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brand Nubian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Birthday Party,
Pagans,
Piero Umiliani,
Pulsallama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxette,
Agent Orange,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.