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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 La Düsseldorf to the electroclash 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Joensuu 1685,
Danielle Patucci,
Skaos,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
The Knickerbockers,
Mars,
Gang of Four,
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Faust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Subhumans,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald,
Average White Band,
The Victims,
Shuggie Otis,
Yazoo,
The Motions,
Juan Atkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
The Seeds,
Cybotron,
Sixth Finger,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Severed Heads,
The Move,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Japan,
Groovy Waters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
New York Dolls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Bootsy Collins,
Eurythmics,
Bauhaus,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
UT,
Eric Dolphy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.