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 Gabon and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Barry Ungar,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Hill,
Howard Jones,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Soft Cell,
Graham Central Station,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pop Group,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Lower 48,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Aswad,
Lalann,
The Invisible,
Shuggie Otis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ponytail,
Magma,
Black Flag,
Althea and Donna,
Tears for Fears,
the Normal,
Joyce Sims,
The Remains,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fear,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
Avey Tare,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mr. Review,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Ohio Players,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
Pagans,
Whodini,
Aaron Thompson,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.