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 Sudan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Juan Atkins,
Negative Approach,
The Skatalites,
Black Flag,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Wally Richardson,
The J.B.'s,
Pere Ubu,
Funky Four + One,
Pagans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-102,
Fela Kuti,
Organ,
Flipper,
The Index,
Arab on Radar,
Con Funk Shun,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Los Fastidios,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suicide,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Newcleus,
John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
The Standells,
Visage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hardrive,
Black Moon,
Massinfluence,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yaz,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Last Poets,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.