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 Poland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 F. McDonald to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
the Swans,
Outsiders,
Theoretical Girls,
Ohio Players,
Chris & Cosey,
Erykah Badu,
The Modern Lovers,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
Brass Construction,
Blossom Toes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Interpol,
Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
One Last Wish,
Deakin,
L. Decosne,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
Japan,
Desert Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sarah Menescal,
These Immortal Souls,
Barrington Levy,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Banda Bassotti,
Tears for Fears,
Absolute Body Control,
Alice Coltrane,
Dual Sessions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Delon & Dalcan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slave,
Pere Ubu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jandek,
Spoonie Gee,
Davy DMX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Bananas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tommy Roe,
Audionom,
Fat Boys,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.