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 Latvia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
The Leaves,
Altered Images,
Procol Harum,
Icehouse,
Khruangbin,
Desert Stars,
Flipper,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Al Stewart,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hasil Adkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
Anthony Braxton,
Brass Construction,
Jeff Mills,
Avey Tare,
E-Dancer,
the Germs,
Robert Hood,
Television,
Fad Gadget,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oblivians,
Josef K,
Scrapy,
The Kinks,
The Cure,
Arthur Verocai,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fela Kuti,
Alison Limerick,
Stiv Bators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Faraquet,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fugs,
Unwound,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.