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 Turkey and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Joey Negro to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Stetsasonic,
The Saints,
Rotary Connection,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Bourne,
Bluetip,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Association,
The Blackbyrds,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Joy Division,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
Toni Rubio,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q65,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Busters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ornette Coleman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Organ,
Spoonie Gee,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
New York Dolls,
Pierre Henry,
Massinfluence,
The Happenings,
Man Parrish,
Severed Heads,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
Little Man,
Rufus Thomas,
Japan,
Lakeside,
Heaven 17,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Mars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Style,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.