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 Denmark and from Stockholm.
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 Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Don Cherry 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Yaz,
Can,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Black Dice,
Connie Case,
Archie Shepp,
kango's stein massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Offenders,
Jacques Brel,
Kaleidoscope,
Suicide,
DJ Style,
Ornette Coleman,
John Holt,
The Slackers,
Don Cherry,
The Cure,
Fad Gadget,
Howard Jones,
Rapeman,
Alison Limerick,
JFA,
The Names,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dead Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Oneida,
Liliput,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Qualms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Pagans,
Negative Approach,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
World's Most,
Fatback Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sugar Minott,
Nas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grey Daturas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Glenn Branca,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.