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 Lebanon and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Erasure,
The Sound,
K-Klass,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick May,
The Trojans,
Bang On A Can,
Zapp,
The Doors,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott Heron,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
Adolescents,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angry Samoans,
Babytalk,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sandy B,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül,
Graham Central Station,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brand Nubian,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Alison Limerick,
Dark Day,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sight & Sound,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Buzzcocks,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Minutemen,
One Last Wish,
The Count Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
The Five Americans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Kurtis Blow,
John Cale,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shoche,
Bronski Beat,
Half Japanese,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical 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.