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 Sierra Leone and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Slick Rick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
U.S. Maple,
Glenn Branca,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
The Toasters,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moebius,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Popol Vuh,
Mad Mike,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
Todd Terry,
Ken Boothe,
Dead Boys,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronan,
Motorama,
Black Moon,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
Zero Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Colin Newman,
Simply Red,
E-Dancer,
Lyres,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mars,
Ossler,
Surgeon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Monolake,
The Knickerbockers,
Fugazi,
Junior Murvin,
Hashim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.