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 Venezuela and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grauzone to the electroclash 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex 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 grime 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
World's Most,
Heaven 17,
The Fuzztones,
48th St. Collective,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
The Victims,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Simply Red,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The New Christs,
Gang of Four,
Al Stewart,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bluetip,
the Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Excepter,
Crime,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy Collins,
Guru Guru,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed,
kango's stein massive,
DNA,
Sam Rivers,
The Cure,
Nirvana,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
Visage,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Yaz,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls,
Lucky Dragons,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
Monks,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.