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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Byrd to the techno 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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
John Foxx,
Eve St. Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
Qualms,
Davy DMX,
Man Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vainqueur,
Minutemen,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
The Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
Henry Cow,
Soulsonic Force,
Suicide,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
Sam Rivers,
Wolf Eyes,
Ornette Coleman,
Whodini,
UT,
Judy Mowatt,
Cybotron,
Little Man,
Junior Murvin,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Andrew Hill,
The Modern Lovers,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
June Days,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.