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 Estonia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grunge 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
The Mojo Men,
Kerri Chandler,
Grey Daturas,
Marvin Gaye,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
The Last Poets,
Wire,
Desert Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reagan Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Quantec,
Toni Rubio,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy Collins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Byrd,
Alison Limerick,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Mission of Burma,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama,
Tres Demented,
John Cale,
The Real Kids,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Residents,
The Buckinghams,
Zapp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June of 44,
ABBA,
AZ,
Fat Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Oneida,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
Joey Negro,
Al Stewart,
Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pylon,
Hashim,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.