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 Cameroon and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin 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 Blossom Toes to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Procol Harum,
The Gun Club,
The Searchers,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Joey Negro,
Alison Limerick,
Fad Gadget,
Wire,
Ten City,
The Sonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Groovy Waters,
Warsaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Quantec,
Joe Smooth,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
Babytalk,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Pylon,
Bronski Beat,
Max Romeo,
Agent Orange,
Amon Düül II,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
New Age Steppers,
CMW,
X-102,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
The Music Machine,
Supertramp,
EPMD,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Sam Rivers,
John Cale,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.