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 Algeria and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 48th St. Collective 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
Minnie Riperton,
Cheater Slicks,
Arcadia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Severed Heads,
Colin Newman,
Eddi Front,
The Buckinghams,
The Fortunes,
Buzzcocks,
Lungfish,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Womack,
The Searchers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
The American Breed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kas Product,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
Organ,
Infiniti,
The Move,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skaos,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalann,
Tomorrow,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
La Düsseldorf,
Circle Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
Mantronix,
Scott Walker,
World's Most,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
Schoolly D,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.