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 Spokane.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Stereo Dub to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Raincoats,
Ituana,
Urselle,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Jandek,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
Wasted Youth,
Khruangbin,
Silicon Teens,
Soul II Soul,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Royal Trux,
T. Rex,
Second Layer,
the Germs,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Country Teasers,
The Fugs,
Yazoo,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Moby Grape,
Alice Coltrane,
Magazine,
Alison Limerick,
The Moleskins,
EPMD,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT,
Nas,
ABBA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
World's Most,
Shuggie Otis,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
The Monks,
Vainqueur,
Eric B and Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
Prince Buster,
Lindisfarne,
Q65,
DJ Style,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.