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 Guyana and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Robert Hood to the grunge 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suburban Knight,
Desert Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camouflage,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mark Hollis,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
Junior Murvin,
LL Cool J,
Marvin Gaye,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brothers Johnson,
E-Dancer,
Jesper Dahlback,
Intrusion,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
China Crisis,
Bronski Beat,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Golliwogs,
Ultravox,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeff Mills,
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Minny Pops,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Grass Roots,
Jawbox,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine,
Tres Demented,
Albert Ayler,
The Blues Magoos,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tom Boy,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Joey Negro,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.