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 Lithuania and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Derrick Morgan,
Neu!,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
FM Einheit,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Model 500,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
Gang of Four,
Darondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yusef Lateef,
Oneida,
Mission of Burma,
Roger Hodgson,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
Mantronix,
Delta 5,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Mills,
Tres Demented,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Saints,
Whodini,
Little Man,
In Retrospect,
Mr. Review,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flipper,
Section 25,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pierre Henry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aswad,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.