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 Argentina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Joe Finger,
Radiohead,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Buzzcocks,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Kas Product,
Fear,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moleskins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
Fugazi,
Bobby Sherman,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
The Evens,
Steve Hackett,
Malaria!,
The Young Rascals,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Peter and Kerry,
Alison Limerick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Josef K,
The Divine Comedy,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Wake,
Grey Daturas,
Sight & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Sarah Menescal,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Davy DMX,
Gang of Four,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sound Behaviour,
Unrelated Segments,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.