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 Mongolia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Fat Boys,
F. McDonald,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABC,
Tomorrow,
The Move,
Gang of Four,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science,
The Angels of Light,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slits,
Moebius,
Kerri Chandler,
Agent Orange,
Erykah Badu,
Hardrive,
Skarface,
Black Flag,
The Searchers,
DJ Style,
Boredoms,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donald Byrd,
The Raincoats,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
T.S.O.L.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul II Soul,
Judy Mowatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arthur Verocai,
Byron Stingily,
June Days,
Outsiders,
The Mummies,
The Cowsills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
PIL,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Swans,
Urselle,
Television Personalities,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.