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 Zambia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fugs to the dance 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blancmange,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Flag,
Sparks,
Echospace,
MDC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Skriet,
Graham Central Station,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Desert Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Faraquet,
Rosa Yemen,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
Theoretical Girls,
Icehouse,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Invisible,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Copeland,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
Qualms,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kaleidoscope,
Heaven 17,
Suburban Knight,
John Foxx,
One Last Wish,
The Cowsills,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed,
Derrick Morgan,
D'Angelo,
Japan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hasil Adkins,
Ronnie Foster,
Yellowson,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks,
The Grass Roots,
10cc,
Nas,
Newcleus,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.