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 Yemen and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Selecter to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nation of Ulysses,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
Bluetip,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moebius,
The Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Golliwogs,
The Litter,
Roxette,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Byron Stingily,
Spandau Ballet,
New Age Steppers,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Aswad,
Robert Görl,
Thee Headcoats,
Nico,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
Bang On A Can,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camberwell Now,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
B.T. Express,
Brothers Johnson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Buckinghams,
Joyce Sims,
EPMD,
Leonard Cohen,
Crooked Eye,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Alice Coltrane,
OOIOO,
Althea and Donna,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mandrill,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.