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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blues Magoos to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Bananas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Electric Light Orchestra,
a-ha,
Jawbox,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Blossom Toes,
Tears for Fears,
The Wake,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arcadia,
Todd Rundgren,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Pole,
The United States of America,
Vainqueur,
Accadde A,
Archie Shepp,
Newcleus,
Dennis Brown,
the Bar-Kays,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Gang Green,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
David Bowie,
Bobby Byrd,
Skarface,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
Lyres,
The Fire Engines,
The Doors,
Nirvana,
Mark Hollis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.