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 Israel and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Grey Daturas to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Niagra,
Brand Nubian,
Funkadelic,
AZ,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scrapy,
Soft Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Almond,
Prince Buster,
Cymande,
Erasure,
Interpol,
Rites of Spring,
Roger Hodgson,
ABBA,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Alison Limerick,
X-Ray Spex,
Technova,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ludus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jacob Miller,
China Crisis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Danielle Patucci,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Fraelich,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Stiv Bators,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Desert Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Graham Central Station,
Lalann,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.