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 Barbados and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
Hoover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Circle Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
Pole,
T. Rex,
UT,
The Fortunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Hill,
Clear Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Alarm Clocks,
One Last Wish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Jeff Mills,
Bronski Beat,
Terry Callier,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dead C,
Eric Dolphy,
Lower 48,
Nico,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Teasers,
Grey Daturas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
Groovy Waters,
Mars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
Swans,
K-Klass,
Davy DMX,
Negative Approach,
Unrelated Segments,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moebius,
Marc Almond,
KRS-One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Associates,
OOIOO,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.