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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 The Black Dice to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Crispian St. Peters,
Piero Umiliani,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Ronan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-Ray Spex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Moon,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Görl,
The Mummies,
Model 500,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
Essential Logic,
Deadbeat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nico,
The Velvet Underground,
Jandek,
Radiopuhelimet,
B.T. Express,
Procol Harum,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gabor Szabo,
Simply Red,
The Vogues,
The Grass Roots,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Bar-Kays,
Delta 5,
Terry Callier,
Joyce Sims,
Ossler,
Rod Modell,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Walker Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.