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 St Lucia and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the disco 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
The New Christs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Marine Girls,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Qualms,
Matthew Bourne,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Techniques,
Wire,
Alphaville,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Almond,
New York Dolls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Youth Brigade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joy Division,
Tears for Fears,
Franke,
Can,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Scan 7,
Maurizio,
Hot Snakes,
Fela Kuti,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mojo Men,
Pet Shop Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.