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 Dominican Republic and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the funk 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
John Foxx,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T. Rex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cymande,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang On A Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Rundgren,
China Crisis,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unwound,
Jeff Lynne,
Absolute Body Control,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Janne Schatter,
Deakin,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Q65,
Oneida,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fluxion,
Black Flag,
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
The Dirtbombs,
Technova,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
The Remains,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Real Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gories,
The Raincoats,
the Fania All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.