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 Mauritania and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Searchers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Letta Mbulu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Andrew Hill,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brothers Johnson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
10cc,
Sister Nancy,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
Curtis Mayfield,
MC5,
X-101,
The Dead C,
Toni Rubio,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Colin Newman,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
Boogie Down Productions,
Average White Band,
Zero Boys,
a-ha,
Q and Not U,
Rites of Spring,
Lower 48,
Agitation Free,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
The Happenings,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Deadbeat,
The Golliwogs,
Tim Buckley,
Blake Baxter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Beau Brummels,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Danielle Patucci,
Hoover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
F. McDonald,
Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.