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 Lesotho and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Slits to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
Wire,
Whodini,
Mission of Burma,
The Fortunes,
Tommy Roe,
Maurizio,
Aaron Thompson,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Donny Hathaway,
Kurtis Blow,
X-101,
Patti Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Gong,
The Searchers,
T.S.O.L.,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Flash Fearless,
Lungfish,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grauzone,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
Metal Thangz,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
X-Ray Spex,
Cheater Slicks,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
Bootsy Collins,
Erasure,
Sister Nancy,
Matthew Bourne,
Yaz,
The Dirtbombs,
Spoonie Gee,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.