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 Indonesia and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Nils Olav,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
Sun City Girls,
Stereo Dub,
Cameo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bauhaus,
Skarface,
Technova,
Metal Thangz,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
Sonic Youth,
OOIOO,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
Tropical Tobacco,
This Heat,
Chrome,
Ronan,
Mantronix,
Rosa Yemen,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gories,
The J.B.'s,
Marmalade,
Theoretical Girls,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Zero Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Charles Mingus,
Can,
Boz Scaggs,
The Offenders,
The Dead C,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Make Up,
the Association,
Donald Byrd,
Suicide,
Public Enemy,
Soul II Soul,
The United States of America,
Pagans,
Kayak,
Lungfish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Tremeloes,
Thee Headcoats,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.