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 Uruguay and from Houston.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Can,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Siglo XX,
Lyres,
The Raincoats,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
the Swans,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
Cal Tjader,
Japan,
Qualms,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
Tres Demented,
John Cale,
Nirvana,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Underground Resistance,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare,
Scion,
Pole,
Faraquet,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Teasers,
Vainqueur,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Womack,
Albert Ayler,
David McCallum,
Urselle,
The Searchers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
Royal Trux,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fortunes,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Simply Red,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Seeds,
The Kinks,
X-102,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.