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 Kazakhstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fugs to the jazz 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Liliput,
Juan Atkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oblivians,
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yazoo,
Gerry Rafferty,
FM Einheit,
Byron Stingily,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mo-Dettes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Pus,
Model 500,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tomorrow,
The Cramps,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Loose Ends,
Unrelated Segments,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
JFA,
Skarface,
The American Breed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Suburban Knight,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
cv313,
Basic Channel,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pierre Henry,
The Buckinghams,
the Swans,
The Move,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.