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 Palau and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Porter Ricks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantytec,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ken Boothe,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Morten Harket,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fortunes,
The United States of America,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter & Gordon,
Livin' Joy,
Ituana,
Subhumans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Altered Images,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thompson Twins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sarah Menescal,
The Doors,
Ice-T,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Neon Judgement,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Goldenarms,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Liliput,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Sugar Minott,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Happenings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.