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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 A Certain Ratio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon,
Lou Christie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Toni Rubio,
Symarip,
the Association,
Mark Hollis,
The Fall,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lee Hazlewood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Toasters,
Country Teasers,
The Monochrome Set,
Blancmange,
Camberwell Now,
The Barracudas,
Newcleus,
Grey Daturas,
Maleditus Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Idris Muhammad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bill Near,
Kerrie Biddell,
David Axelrod,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oneida,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Human League,
The Raincoats,
Monolake,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Five Americans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Freddie Wadling,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lower 48,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
The Gories,
Absolute Body Control,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.