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 Burundi and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Excepter to the grime 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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?
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Eli Mardock,
Joy Division,
Con Funk Shun,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
OOIOO,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quadrant,
Absolute Body Control,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
Whodini,
David Axelrod,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
The Sound,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yaz,
Roger Hodgson,
Chrome,
Jawbox,
The Searchers,
Barry Ungar,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eddi Front,
Sonic Youth,
Boredoms,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Kayak,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
June Days,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Dolphy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.