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 Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Section 25 to the disco 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ituana,
Junior Murvin,
Monks,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
The Trojans,
The Gories,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ornette Coleman,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Fraelich,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
Harmonia,
Tom Boy,
The Divine Comedy,
D'Angelo,
Kerri Chandler,
Mr. Review,
The Black Dice,
Eddi Front,
Scion,
PIL,
Barrington Levy,
Little Man,
The Selecter,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Don Cherry,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Red Krayola,
The Raincoats,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy Collins,
Main Source,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joe Smooth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pole,
Bad Manners,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pretty Things,
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.