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 Fiji and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Holger Czukay 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 T. Rex to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Nico,
Suicide,
Eric Dolphy,
Wire,
Model 500,
Camberwell Now,
KRS-One,
Dennis Brown,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
Anakelly,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Fluxion,
Guru Guru,
Agent Orange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monks,
Robert Wyatt,
Darondo,
Nas,
Scientists,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Ohio Players,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Bananas,
The Divine Comedy,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Sherman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
This Heat,
OOIOO,
Gichy Dan,
Brass Construction,
Kerri Chandler,
Al Stewart,
The Last Poets,
Average White Band,
DNA,
The Smiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doors,
Josef K,
Blake Baxter,
Ronan,
Newcleus,
Cluster,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oneida,
Organ,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
Con Funk Shun,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.