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 Greece and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Cymande to the grime 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brand Nubian,
kango's stein massive,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ken Boothe,
LL Cool J,
Althea and Donna,
Max Romeo,
Theoretical Girls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Angry Samoans,
Pantytec,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Music Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
Stetsasonic,
Babytalk,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
the Association,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
Moss Icon,
Fatback Band,
48th St. Collective,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Q and Not U,
Kerri Chandler,
Darondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Machine,
Altered Images,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.