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 Bangladesh and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 Surgeon to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Bill Wells,
Massinfluence,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
Sonny Sharrock,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
Barbara Tucker,
Suicide,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wolf Eyes,
Sandy B,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
Black Moon,
Chris Corsano,
The Evens,
Bad Manners,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Count Five,
The United States of America,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
Howard Jones,
Tears for Fears,
Basic Channel,
Ronnie Foster,
The Velvet Underground,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gories,
Gong,
Lower 48,
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.