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 Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Scrapy,
Suicide,
Scott Walker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Subhumans,
Delta 5,
E-Dancer,
Spandau Ballet,
Siglo XX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
a-ha,
Zapp,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronan,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Techniques,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nas,
The Stooges,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nirvana,
Archie Shepp,
Ultravox,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Mandrill,
Groovy Waters,
U.S. Maple,
Ten City,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
Bobby Sherman,
Rod Modell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Josef K,
Hasil Adkins,
Zero Boys,
The Mojo Men,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.