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 Cameroon and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Heaven 17 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
Radio Birdman,
Throbbing Gristle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
This Heat,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
The Residents,
KRS-One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ludus,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Hardrive,
The Knickerbockers,
Al Stewart,
the Germs,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
10cc,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pierre Henry,
Motorama,
The Velvet Underground,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
Steve Hackett,
Dead Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roxette,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gun Club,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
Gichy Dan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Slave,
Letta Mbulu,
Shoche,
Unwound,
Eden Ahbez,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.