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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Suicide,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Magazine,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultra Naté,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dave Gahan,
The Walker Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Saints,
Sun City Girls,
The Gun Club,
Drexciya,
E-Dancer,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
The Martian,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Funkadelic,
The Monks,
Schoolly D,
David Bowie,
Technova,
Todd Terry,
Angry Samoans,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Magma,
Ken Boothe,
Pulsallama,
Soulsonic Force,
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.