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 Cyprus and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Absolute Body Control to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Remains,
Bob Dylan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slackers,
Boz Scaggs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Zeros,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fall,
Trumans Water,
Ponytail,
Youth Brigade,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Schoolly D,
Von Mondo,
Sight & Sound,
Babytalk,
Wally Richardson,
Kayak,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
FM Einheit,
Lyres,
Urselle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Niagra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Infiniti,
Anthony Braxton,
Ornette Coleman,
The J.B.'s,
The Toasters,
The Music Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
Lungfish,
Model 500,
Yaz,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joe Smooth,
Wings,
Soft Cell,
June of 44,
U.S. Maple,
The United States of America,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
the Sonics,
Surgeon,
The Index,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.