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 Macedonia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
Nirvana,
AZ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Porter Ricks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Kinks,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Echospace,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
June Days,
Sixth Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
The Pretty Things,
L. Decosne,
The Blues Magoos,
Inner City,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Electric Prunes,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
ABC,
Warsaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Monks,
Black Pus,
The Buckinghams,
The Monochrome Set,
Circle Jerks,
Roger Hodgson,
Vladislav Delay,
Chris Corsano,
Ken Boothe,
Pantytec,
June of 44,
Lower 48,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Zeros,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bootsy Collins,
Erasure,
Todd Terry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun City Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.