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 Philippines and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T. Rex to the grunge 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Tomorrow,
X-101,
Cybotron,
Simply Red,
Masters at Work,
EPMD,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Crime,
Joyce Sims,
Bad Manners,
Kurtis Blow,
Royal Trux,
Qualms,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Moebius,
The Trojans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
Absolute Body Control,
Underground Resistance,
Funkadelic,
Danielle Patucci,
Second Layer,
Carl Craig,
Infiniti,
10cc,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harry Pussy,
Young Marble Giants,
JFA,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Easy Going,
Patti Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Dolphy,
Livin' Joy,
Blossom Toes,
Japan,
Blancmange,
Circle Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Icehouse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T.S.O.L.,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.