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 Ireland and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fugs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Knickerbockers,
the Fania All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Television,
The Cramps,
MC5,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cameo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
Brass Construction,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
ABC,
X-101,
Donald Byrd,
Pole,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scientists,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minny Pops,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris & Cosey,
Electric Prunes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalann,
Radio Birdman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
B.T. Express,
The Remains,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Juan Atkins,
June Days,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
Sonny Sharrock,
James White and The Blacks,
The Toasters,
The Standells,
Barrington Levy,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Wire,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
Cymande,
The United States of America,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.