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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jandek to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fugazi,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Interpol,
Boredoms,
D'Angelo,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Moon,
Little Man,
Delta 5,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young,
Lee Hazlewood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Albert Ayler,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
Loose Ends,
Average White Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Morten Harket,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
Yazoo,
Schoolly D,
Laurel Aitken,
F. McDonald,
Skaos,
X-102,
Alison Limerick,
Gang of Four,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
a-ha,
Rakim,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Gichy Dan,
Leonard Cohen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Connie Case,
Can,
B.T. Express,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.