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 Georgia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 New York Dolls to the jazz 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Grass Roots,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Hot Snakes,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Aural Exciters,
Pere Ubu,
Dual Sessions,
Hoover,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
The Neon Judgement,
Flash Fearless,
Basic Channel,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
Josef K,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Main Source,
Arthur Verocai,
Roxette,
Television,
Soul Sonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
Unwound,
Desert Stars,
Von Mondo,
Easy Going,
Mr. Review,
U.S. Maple,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
The Martian,
Bobby Womack,
John Foxx,
Anakelly,
The Happenings,
Jacob Miller,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.