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 Luxembourg and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
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 guitar 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 Jeff Mills to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
DNA,
Masters at Work,
Aural Exciters,
Roy Ayers,
KRS-One,
Alison Limerick,
China Crisis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Wyatt,
Jacques Brel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
Black Pus,
This Heat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Saints,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
Soft Machine,
Al Stewart,
Idris Muhammad,
Monks,
10cc,
Unrelated Segments,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiohead,
Funkadelic,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Essential Logic,
Steve Hackett,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
Robert Hood,
Jandek,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.