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 Suriname and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Gong,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Womack,
L. Decosne,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
the Association,
Rosa Yemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pylon,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Audionom,
Whodini,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
June of 44,
Pole,
Roxy Music,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Lalann,
Marshall Jefferson,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
the Bar-Kays,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
Skaos,
Iggy Pop,
Royal Trux,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Supertramp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jandek,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.