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 Guyana and from Halifax.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Slick Rick to the grunge 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Terry Callier,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hoover,
Quando Quango,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
Essential Logic,
Bush Tetras,
Spoonie Gee,
Prince Buster,
Skriet,
the Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Hill,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
Pulsallama,
Interpol,
The Fugs,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronnie Foster,
Y Pants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oneida,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blossom Toes,
The Trojans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Count Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
Tubeway Army,
Deadbeat,
Icehouse,
The Human League,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Leonard Cohen,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
Brand Nubian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun City Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.