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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 David Bowie to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Zapp,
The Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Glenn Branca,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
Scientists,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Althea and Donna,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
David Axelrod,
Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric Copeland,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Trumans Water,
Ice-T,
B.T. Express,
Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Zero Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
New Order,
Rapeman,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Yaz,
Harry Pussy,
Tears for Fears,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
The Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Warsaw,
Excepter,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.