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 Palau and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Slave 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun City Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Boredoms,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
Dual Sessions,
The Associates,
The Techniques,
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
Goldenarms,
Prince Buster,
Letta Mbulu,
Derrick Morgan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
The Gun Club,
Black Flag,
Rufus Thomas,
The Move,
Saccharine Trust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Royal Trux,
10cc,
The Kinks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
Susan Cadogan,
Pere Ubu,
Ossler,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Warren Ellis,
Deakin,
Model 500,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
Faraquet,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Clarke,
Icehouse,
Max Romeo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maleditus Sound,
R.M.O.,
Crime,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.