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 Mozambique and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 David Bowie 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Bluetip,
Negative Approach,
Crime,
the Sonics,
Japan,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Outsiders,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
U.S. Maple,
Echospace,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Halsall,
David Bowie,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Porter Ricks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barbara Tucker,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rotary Connection,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
FM Einheit,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
Supertramp,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Kenny Larkin,
Oneida,
Au Pairs,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rufus Thomas,
Lungfish,
Suburban Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
the Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Visage,
DJ Sneak,
Brick,
Adolescents,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
10cc,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.