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 Guinea and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Josef K to the grunge 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
Quadrant,
Traffic Nightmare,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Beau Brummels,
The Grass Roots,
Cameo,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Joey Negro,
CMW,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Unwound,
Neil Young,
Amon Düül,
The Star Department,
Angry Samoans,
Anthony Braxton,
Bluetip,
Television,
The Toasters,
Jerry's Kids,
Hoover,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
The Smiths,
Kaleidoscope,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mad Mike,
The Black Dice,
Agitation Free,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brass Construction,
Nas,
Los Fastidios,
Sparks,
Echospace,
Marine Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Parry Music,
Pagans,
T.S.O.L.,
Shoche,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.