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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Quantec to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
New York Dolls,
Roxy Music,
Gichy Dan,
Brothers Johnson,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Cymande,
The Doors,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
the Association,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Make Up,
The Mummies,
Rufus Thomas,
Delta 5,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
Cluster,
Prince Buster,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Minor Threat,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Christie,
KRS-One,
Liliput,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dead C,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Crash Course in Science,
Underground Resistance,
Circle Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kayak,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Rod Modell,
Pylon,
The Young Rascals,
Eli Mardock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rapeman,
The Busters,
Con Funk Shun,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
Faraquet,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
Schoolly D,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.