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 Netherlands and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 MC5 to the techno 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
E-Dancer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Glenn Branca,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
Yazoo,
Yusef Lateef,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scion,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
The Pretty Things,
the Bar-Kays,
Yellowson,
Easy Going,
Eden Ahbez,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
John Lydon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry's Kids,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Invisible,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Goldenarms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.