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 Monaco and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Jawbox,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
The Evens,
Motorama,
The Doors,
The Fall,
The Mummies,
The Monochrome Set,
In Retrospect,
Sun City Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Henry Cow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hoover,
Hardrive,
Al Stewart,
Black Flag,
Stetsasonic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Archie Shepp,
Newcleus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ten City,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
the Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Japan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Todd Terry,
Judy Mowatt,
Das Ding,
Freddie Wadling,
Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roxette,
The Barracudas,
Country Teasers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rites of Spring,
Los Fastidios,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.