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 Korea North and from Copenhagen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sonny Sharrock to the funk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
The Fugs,
The Barracudas,
Fat Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Don Cherry,
Joy Division,
Mr. Review,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Alice Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Kinks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lebanon Hanover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
Fear,
Ronnie Foster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rekid,
The Gap Band,
Grauzone,
The Busters,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scrapy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ken Boothe,
June of 44,
The Fuzztones,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
Duran Duran,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neu!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.