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 Manila.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Heaven 17,
Wally Richardson,
The Wake,
Colin Newman,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
Eurythmics,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Schoolly D,
Blancmange,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Severed Heads,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Animal Collective,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
MC5,
John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
The Move,
Black Flag,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grauzone,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Scott Walker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter & Gordon,
Stiv Bators,
Trumans Water,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zero Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angry Samoans,
Marvin Gaye,
This Heat,
Howard Jones,
Massinfluence,
Inner City,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.