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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Jesper Dahlback to the jazz 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
A Certain Ratio,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
Drexciya,
Dawn Penn,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Prince Buster,
Chris Corsano,
Pylon,
Vladislav Delay,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angry Samoans,
The Monks,
Subhumans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Boredoms,
Rotary Connection,
Arcadia,
Dead Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Pere Ubu,
T. Rex,
Leonard Cohen,
Scan 7,
Kerri Chandler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Motorama,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maleditus Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Skaos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Animal Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Darondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Josef K,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.