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 Argentina and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
The Blues Magoos,
Funkadelic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
The Star Department,
June Days,
Joyce Sims,
Moss Icon,
Ultra Naté,
Slave,
The Fortunes,
Dual Sessions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Trojans,
Oneida,
Gil Scott Heron,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mission of Burma,
Fatback Band,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
Schoolly D,
The Last Poets,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed,
Lyres,
Hoover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Symarip,
Minnie Riperton,
Aaron Thompson,
Grey Daturas,
The New Christs,
John Holt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brand Nubian,
Rotary Connection,
Drexciya,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Das Ding,
Niagra,
the Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zapp,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.