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 Germany and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 a-ha to the rock 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cybotron,
The Mummies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Infiniti,
The Five Americans,
The Angels of Light,
Audionom,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun Ra,
Sam Rivers,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
Skriet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
Bill Near,
Desert Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Victims,
Lucky Dragons,
The Stooges,
Sugar Minott,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul II Soul,
Stereo Dub,
Byron Stingily,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Crime,
Marmalade,
Anthony Braxton,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
Babytalk,
Dark Day,
Soft Cell,
The Busters,
Todd Terry,
Arcadia,
Deakin,
AZ,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.