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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jawbox to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Raincoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
Funky Four + One,
Spoonie Gee,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Knickerbockers,
Yellowson,
Q and Not U,
Pagans,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brass Construction,
Maleditus Sound,
T. Rex,
Archie Shepp,
Janne Schatter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
The Real Kids,
Mandrill,
Alphaville,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
Kayak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
Chrome,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Buckinghams,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
New Order,
PIL,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cowsills,
Motorama,
Jacob Miller,
Black Bananas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
Darondo,
Excepter,
Henry Cow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.