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 Niger and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ 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 Adolescents to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu 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?
Young Marble Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Mandrill,
The Human League,
The Martian,
The United States of America,
the Sonics,
Kas Product,
Black Flag,
Yaz,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick May,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Symarip,
This Heat,
Monks,
Flash Fearless,
X-101,
Piero Umiliani,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roger Hodgson,
Eddi Front,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-102,
Sugar Minott,
LL Cool J,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swell Maps,
Rod Modell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Happenings,
Pole,
the Normal,
The Five Americans,
Inner City,
Alphaville,
Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Los Fastidios,
FM Einheit,
Minor Threat,
Q and Not U,
the Association,
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
Gong,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
Faraquet,
The Pop Group,
Youth Brigade,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.