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 Congo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Tehran and New York.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Yusef Lateef to the crunk 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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys 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?
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
The Pretty Things,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Velvet Underground,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
Soft Machine,
Black Bananas,
Shoche,
Sixth Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Can,
Quantec,
The Cowsills,
Zero Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
The Happenings,
Wasted Youth,
Saccharine Trust,
John Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Motions,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ultra Naté,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
Fear,
Black Moon,
Gang Starr,
The Slackers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
OOIOO,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
Faust,
the Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.