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 Argentina 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Newcleus,
Charles Mingus,
Rites of Spring,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Sneak,
Television Personalities,
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sonics,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Cell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Echospace,
Cecil Taylor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quantec,
Dark Day,
Jeff Lynne,
Unwound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drexciya,
The Mummies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ponytail,
Urselle,
Bill Wells,
Fugazi,
Pylon,
Smog,
a-ha,
Bobby Sherman,
June of 44,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Section 25,
Ultra Naté,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
Ituana,
Pantytec,
Deakin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oneida,
The Five Americans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Outsiders,
Half Japanese,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Metal Thangz,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.