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 Somalia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
World's Most,
Sugar Minott,
Pere Ubu,
Agitation Free,
L. Decosne,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Dual Sessions,
the Sonics,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mars,
Panda Bear,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
China Crisis,
Gong,
David Axelrod,
The Black Dice,
John Foxx,
Black Moon,
Scratch Acid,
Brothers Johnson,
Al Stewart,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Fraelich,
Infiniti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Public Enemy,
The Grass Roots,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Leonard Cohen,
John Coltrane,
Piero Umiliani,
Crooked Eye,
B.T. Express,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Rakim,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Hardrive,
Arthur Verocai,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DNA,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harmonia,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.