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 Antigua and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Young Marble Giants to the crunk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Organ,
Eric Copeland,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Soul Sonic Force,
Prince Buster,
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Eli Mardock,
The Mojo Men,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Goldenarms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Henry Cow,
Arab on Radar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Clarke,
Audionom,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Junior Murvin,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Chris Corsano,
H. Thieme,
Scrapy,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Sherman,
Soul II Soul,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mummies,
Funky Four + One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Theoretical Girls,
Nirvana,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pop Group,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
Faust,
Joe Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
Bluetip,
The Golliwogs,
Monks,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.