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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 Fatback Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
Public Image Ltd.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lindisfarne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Buzzcocks,
The Count Five,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacob Miller,
Newcleus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Shuggie Otis,
Spandau Ballet,
Ludus,
Nirvana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David Axelrod,
Al Stewart,
Model 500,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
Anakelly,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Skaos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
These Immortal Souls,
Surgeon,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Josef K,
Marmalade,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Last Poets,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
Fad Gadget,
Glenn Branca,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.