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 Morocco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Circle Jerks 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tomorrow,
Aural Exciters,
10cc,
The Modern Lovers,
Kenny Larkin,
The Leaves,
Rod Modell,
Fat Boys,
Gang Starr,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Martian,
Quadrant,
Faraquet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Anakelly,
The Victims,
The Cramps,
The Gap Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barrington Levy,
Reagan Youth,
Mandrill,
Surgeon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Gang Green,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Groovy Waters,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry's Kids,
Nik Kershaw,
The Human League,
Underground Resistance,
Dawn Penn,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-Ray Spex,
The Star Department,
Slave,
Angry Samoans,
Mars,
Shoche,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
Arcadia,
the Human League,
Faust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.