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 Azerbaijan and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Wasted Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
The Moleskins,
Crime,
Kas Product,
The Names,
Erykah Badu,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads,
Hardrive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fat Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Al Stewart,
Hasil Adkins,
Skriet,
Leonard Cohen,
Porter Ricks,
The Leaves,
Sam Rivers,
Qualms,
Aloha Tigers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
One Last Wish,
ABBA,
Yusef Lateef,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Yazoo,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Smog,
Stetsasonic,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minny Pops,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Remains,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
Bluetip,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Monolake,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.