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 Bhutan and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 the Fania All-Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Toasters,
Q65,
In Retrospect,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT,
Fela Kuti,
Bad Manners,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eden Ahbez,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
Bill Wells,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
Metal Thangz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skriet,
Sam Rivers,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
Scan 7,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lower 48,
Con Funk Shun,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
Anthony Braxton,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
Ituana,
ABBA,
The Red Krayola,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moleskins,
Angry Samoans,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Procol Harum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
The Fortunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Malaria!,
Thompson Twins,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.