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 Algeria and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 B.T. Express to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Unwound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kayak,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
Inner City,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bizarre Inc.,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rites of Spring,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Byrd,
Franke,
Tommy Roe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rekid,
Sister Nancy,
John Foxx,
Black Sheep,
DJ Sneak,
The Angels of Light,
Unrelated Segments,
The Red Krayola,
Malaria!,
John Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter & Gordon,
Chrome,
World's Most,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cluster,
The Moleskins,
E-Dancer,
Drive Like Jehu,
FM Einheit,
Boogie Down Productions,
June Days,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.