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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
David McCallum,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
The Monochrome Set,
The Index,
The Black Dice,
E-Dancer,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sister Nancy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cluster,
Bluetip,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stereo Dub,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Buckinghams,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television,
Vainqueur,
Lyres,
Gong,
The Happenings,
Ponytail,
Rekid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
Suicide,
The Seeds,
Charles Mingus,
Marmalade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABC,
Unwound,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Goldenarms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mars,
The Sonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Pulsallama,
Rufus Thomas,
Kas Product,
Niagra,
Rites of Spring,
Davy DMX,
The Neon Judgement,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
The Durutti Column,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.