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 Kenya and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peter and Kerry to the grime 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
Stereo Dub,
The Blackbyrds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Negative Approach,
Anthony Braxton,
Dave Gahan,
The Toasters,
Talk Talk,
Wire,
Ken Boothe,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed,
Funkadelic,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Faraquet,
The Mojo Men,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
The New Christs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
L. Decosne,
The Barracudas,
the Association,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
Supertramp,
Ituana,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.