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 Portugal and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Dolphy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
The Remains,
The Litter,
Nik Kershaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Young Marble Giants,
New York Dolls,
Don Cherry,
Youth Brigade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Supertramp,
Rod Modell,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
the Normal,
Scientists,
Lee Hazlewood,
Guru Guru,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Niagra,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
Buzzcocks,
One Last Wish,
Jawbox,
Vainqueur,
Fluxion,
Heaven 17,
Make Up,
X-102,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Schoolly D,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak,
Peter and Kerry,
The Raincoats,
The Walker Brothers,
the Sonics,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
David Bowie,
Kayak,
Boredoms,
Skaos,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.