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 Oman and from Taipei.
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 Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 This Heat to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
David Bowie,
Tubeway Army,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
Peter & Gordon,
The Associates,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Inner City,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Sonic Youth,
Average White Band,
Harmonia,
Joe Finger,
Rapeman,
The Residents,
Smog,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Kinks,
Anakelly,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
The Velvet Underground,
Juan Atkins,
PIL,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
the Association,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alice Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dead C,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cluster,
David McCallum,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
Intrusion,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.