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 Gabon and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Yazoo to the grunge 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Dead Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Doors,
Stereo Dub,
John Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
the Bar-Kays,
Moby Grape,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxette,
Royal Trux,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lightning Bolt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Youth Brigade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Scratch Acid,
Deakin,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Theoretical Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Shuggie Otis,
Stockholm Monsters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Barracudas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Drexciya,
Colin Newman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Residents,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
Ken Boothe,
Animal Collective,
Faust,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scrapy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Davy DMX,
Amon Düül,
Radio Birdman,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
The Cramps,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.