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 Uganda and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Pole to the disco 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Buzzcocks,
The Red Krayola,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Pop Group,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Young Marble Giants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cure,
Barry Ungar,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Matthew Bourne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
The Residents,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
Black Bananas,
the Germs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
The Victims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Hardrive,
Juan Atkins,
The Kinks,
Warsaw,
Neil Young,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
The Busters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brothers Johnson,
The Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Albert Ayler,
Connie Case,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip,
Unrelated Segments,
Symarip,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Smooth,
X-101,
Skarface,
Ohio Players,
Sam Rivers,
Cameo,
Desert Stars,
Fat Boys,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.