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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Victims to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
The Cure,
The Associates,
Rapeman,
Kerri Chandler,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kayak,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
the Bar-Kays,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
The New Christs,
Terry Callier,
Scientists,
This Heat,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
Albert Ayler,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Sherman,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
Buzzcocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers,
Harpers Bizarre,
a-ha,
Fad Gadget,
China Crisis,
Nils Olav,
Howard Jones,
Morten Harket,
Suburban Knight,
Mo-Dettes,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
Dual Sessions,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Rod Modell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Arcadia,
Eve St. Jones,
Theoretical Girls,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.