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 Colombia and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Womack to the techno 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Hot Snakes,
Suburban Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Easy Going,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Christie,
Maleditus Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Spandau Ballet,
Soulsonic Force,
K-Klass,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nico,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
R.M.O.,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton,
L. Decosne,
The Misunderstood,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monochrome Set,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Scientists,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camberwell Now,
The Dead C,
Supertramp,
Ultravox,
Jacob Miller,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Carl Craig,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
Interpol,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Starr,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.