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 Eritrea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Man Parrish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Fela Kuti,
Stetsasonic,
Fatback Band,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Organ,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Zero Boys,
Youth Brigade,
Pantytec,
Tubeway Army,
B.T. Express,
One Last Wish,
Metal Thangz,
Nas,
The Fuzztones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Television Personalities,
Arcadia,
Moebius,
Letta Mbulu,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
The American Breed,
Schoolly D,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Sight & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
Anthony Braxton,
Mars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Germs,
The Selecter,
The Index,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
Scratch Acid,
Stereo Dub,
The Slackers,
Fluxion,
Khruangbin,
Interpol,
Pole,
Wings,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.