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 Romania and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Niagra,
Nick Fraelich,
Arab on Radar,
Youth Brigade,
Amon Düül,
Unwound,
OOIOO,
Delon & Dalcan,
Neil Young,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Iggy Pop,
Oneida,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
Bronski Beat,
Pulsallama,
Warsaw,
Scratch Acid,
Sam Rivers,
The Selecter,
Deepchord,
The Doors,
Magma,
Model 500,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joyce Sims,
David McCallum,
Harry Pussy,
The Evens,
The Fall,
The Searchers,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick,
Pole,
The Move,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ituana,
Graham Central Station,
Stockholm Monsters,
Groovy Waters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brass Construction,
The J.B.'s,
Roger Hodgson,
The Toasters,
Kurtis Blow,
Inner City,
Banda Bassotti,
Faust,
Mission of Burma,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.