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 Austria and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Radiohead,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Fear,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yellowson,
Swell Maps,
The Saints,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
K-Klass,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
Aaron Thompson,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
Ultra Naté,
Subhumans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Christie,
Nico,
Motorama,
Erykah Badu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slackers,
John Foxx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Depeche Mode,
Darondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Circle Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roger Hodgson,
Sparks,
New Order,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mandrill,
Scrapy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
The Five Americans,
Ohio Players,
Marine Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.