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 Haiti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Neu!,
The Star Department,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
48th St. Collective,
Rod Modell,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
Excepter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
AZ,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quando Quango,
Marine Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Near,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
Schoolly D,
R.M.O.,
Nas,
Supertramp,
Skarface,
Eurythmics,
Grey Daturas,
The Zeros,
The Music Machine,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Swell Maps,
Television Personalities,
Delta 5,
Rakim,
JFA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
cv313,
Moby Grape,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
Moss Icon,
Shoche,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.