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 Jordan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the jazz 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Unwound,
Terry Callier,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Motorama,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Little Man,
Boredoms,
Excepter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
The Motions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
Swell Maps,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
The Barracudas,
The Grass Roots,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anakelly,
Rites of Spring,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
48th St. Collective,
Quadrant,
Donald Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
Chris & Cosey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
Wire,
The New Christs,
Qualms,
The Cramps,
10cc,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warsaw,
Joey Negro,
The Selecter,
Massinfluence,
Davy DMX,
Aswad,
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.