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 Albania and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 The Toasters to the crunk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Skarface,
Big Daddy Kane,
Echospace,
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Outsiders,
DNA,
Monks,
Robert Hood,
Eden Ahbez,
Alphaville,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Star Department,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
James White and The Blacks,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
The Names,
the Association,
Sparks,
Kayak,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donny Hathaway,
JFA,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moss Icon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
Von Mondo,
F. McDonald,
X-102,
Agitation Free,
Ornette Coleman,
EPMD,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Pus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fugs,
The Velvet Underground,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.