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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Terry Callier to the dance 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras,
Eli Mardock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sparks,
Bobby Womack,
Ultravox,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
Young Marble Giants,
The Young Rascals,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip,
Alphaville,
Nirvana,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Sheep,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Franke,
Magazine,
Liliput,
Q65,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front,
Black Moon,
The Grass Roots,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare,
Depeche Mode,
Severed Heads,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Delon & Dalcan,
DJ Style,
F. McDonald,
The Evens,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
The Slackers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harry Pussy,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Ice-T,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.