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 Lesotho and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David McCallum,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
Funky Four + One,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
MDC,
Goldenarms,
Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Pierre Henry,
The Invisible,
Yaz,
Sam Rivers,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine,
a-ha,
the Sonics,
World's Most,
The Happenings,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Anthony Braxton,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nik Kershaw,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Lungfish,
Graham Central Station,
Barry Ungar,
Marcia Griffiths,
Groovy Waters,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
Lindisfarne,
Echospace,
Max Romeo,
Nico,
Fela Kuti,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.