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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Swans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Symarip,
Brass Construction,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Darondo,
The Move,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blues Magoos,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jandek,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun City Girls,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Main Source,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Supertramp,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
The Monochrome Set,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Section 25,
Minutemen,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
This Heat,
The Golliwogs,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soft Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
UT,
Qualms,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Smog,
Popol Vuh,
Ice-T,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
Banda Bassotti,
Howard Jones,
Man Parrish,
Franke,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.