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 Croatia and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The United States of America,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Schoolly D,
The Martian,
Fugazi,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
A Certain Ratio,
Panda Bear,
Aural Exciters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minutemen,
Minor Threat,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ornette Coleman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Das Ding,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Magazine,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
Yellowson,
Warsaw,
Ten City,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Q65,
The Sound,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
The Misunderstood,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.