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 Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Coltrane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
The Tremeloes,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
Warsaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Qualms,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Eve St. Jones,
Lungfish,
H. Thieme,
L. Decosne,
The Martian,
Fatback Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Judy Mowatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Excepter,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
June Days,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joe Smooth,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
New Order,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
Boz Scaggs,
Harry Pussy,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Susan Cadogan,
Quadrant,
Skarface,
The Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers,
The J.B.'s,
Spoonie Gee,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.