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 Russia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 The Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
Heaven 17,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
Byron Stingily,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Average White Band,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
Darondo,
Fugazi,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Tom Boy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reagan Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
The Associates,
The Trojans,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
Peter & Gordon,
the Swans,
Black Pus,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Technova,
Bizarre Inc.,
Das Ding,
New Order,
Ituana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Henry Cow,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
The Young Rascals,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispian St. Peters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Gong,
Whodini,
Letta Mbulu,
Tim Buckley,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.