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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dennis Brown to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
Eli Mardock,
Brick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalann,
Infiniti,
Lakeside,
Aaron Thompson,
Leonard Cohen,
Siglo XX,
Spandau Ballet,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blancmange,
Kurtis Blow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Harmonia,
The Dave Clark Five,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donald Byrd,
Japan,
Man Parrish,
Sam Rivers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Faust,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Pus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minny Pops,
Graham Central Station,
Nas,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Zero Boys,
Roxette,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Skatalites,
CMW,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.