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 Nigeria and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Don Cherry to the crunk 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Ice-T,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Remains,
Ponytail,
Ultra Naté,
Sun City Girls,
the Association,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Gastr Del Sol,
David McCallum,
Tom Boy,
Faraquet,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra,
Bill Near,
The Count Five,
Ohio Players,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Skarface,
Pantaleimon,
Black Sheep,
Main Source,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris Corsano,
The New Christs,
Das Ding,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
Gang Starr,
Al Stewart,
Surgeon,
cv313,
The Saints,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.