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 Sierra Leone and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
The Selecter,
Roxette,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Searchers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Albert Ayler,
X-102,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Josef K,
Jeff Lynne,
The Grass Roots,
The Techniques,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Lindisfarne,
Ludus,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Camberwell Now,
The Fugs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quantec,
The Mummies,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yazoo,
The Buckinghams,
Agitation Free,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Green,
Ronan,
Young Marble Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Slackers,
Faraquet,
The Wake,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
The Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.