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 Congo and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Knickerbockers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Absolute Body Control,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fugazi,
The United States of America,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cowsills,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
DJ Sneak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Names,
Television,
Yazoo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quantec,
Wally Richardson,
Interpol,
Avey Tare,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Wells,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
The Stooges,
Michelle Simonal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neil Young,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Royal Trux,
The Slits,
The Litter,
Fela Kuti,
Leonard Cohen,
Warren Ellis,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed,
Connie Case,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cramps,
Flash Fearless,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jawbox,
The Human League,
Soul II Soul,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronnie Foster,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rosa Yemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Divine Comedy,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.