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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joyce Sims to the disco 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Bill Wells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swell Maps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minor Threat,
Fluxion,
Liliput,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Magazine,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Cluster,
Lyres,
Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Negative Approach,
Barrington Levy,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Bananas,
Neu!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Surgeon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The J.B.'s,
The Monochrome Set,
Silicon Teens,
Pierre Henry,
Steve Hackett,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
The Vogues,
Zapp,
Hardrive,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultra Naté,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Arab on Radar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Second Layer,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Anakelly,
The Fortunes,
Underground Resistance,
Black Pus,
The Wake,
One Last Wish,
Pantaleimon,
Fugazi,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.