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 Cambodia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 the Normal to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Scientists 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 rap 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ituana,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Can,
Reuben Wilson,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Donald Byrd,
The Seeds,
Boz Scaggs,
the Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Golliwogs,
EPMD,
the Germs,
Country Teasers,
Liliput,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Godley & Creme,
The Misunderstood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire,
Public Image Ltd.,
Severed Heads,
Toni Rubio,
Cybotron,
H. Thieme,
The Busters,
Danielle Patucci,
Mission of Burma,
Amazonics,
The Kinks,
Lungfish,
OOIOO,
Suicide,
The Fugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Deadbeat,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Mandrill,
the Swans,
Erykah Badu,
The Count Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.