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 Lesotho and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Chris & Cosey to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
Maleditus Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
DNA,
The Index,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Hot Snakes,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
T.S.O.L.,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
Deakin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Motorama,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mojo Men,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Supertramp,
Roxy Music,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Massinfluence,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terry Callier,
Subhumans,
La Düsseldorf,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia,
Ludus,
Magazine,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
The Names,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
JFA,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scientists,
Tommy Roe,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blackbyrds,
Sun City Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.