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 Honduras 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABBA,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magazine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harry Pussy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Walker Brothers,
Parry Music,
Matthew Bourne,
Royal Trux,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Warsaw,
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
U.S. Maple,
The Pop Group,
David Axelrod,
Eric Copeland,
The Victims,
One Last Wish,
Agitation Free,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Terry,
Index,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gun Club,
Warren Ellis,
Loose Ends,
Flipper,
Cybotron,
The Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Malaria!,
The Toasters,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Darondo,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Remains,
This Heat,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.