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 Namibia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 Tom Boy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Franke,
CMW,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
The Move,
Jandek,
Graham Central Station,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hardrive,
Don Cherry,
Monolake,
Zero Boys,
Supertramp,
Bill Wells,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
Aswad,
Funkadelic,
Q and Not U,
Archie Shepp,
Lakeside,
Mars,
Bad Manners,
the Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quadrant,
The Doobie Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
John Coltrane,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül,
Bob Dylan,
Alphaville,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Panda Bear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Black Dice,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
LL Cool J,
The Busters,
Guru Guru,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.