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 Gabon and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cecil Taylor to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ponytail,
Spoonie Gee,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Babytalk,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Urselle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Henry Cow,
Negative Approach,
The Knickerbockers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Zeros,
The Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joy Division,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
Hasil Adkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pylon,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Franke,
Juan Atkins,
Quantec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cowsills,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jandek,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.