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 Mauritania and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deepchord to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
Adolescents,
The Black Dice,
Buzzcocks,
Cymande,
Ronnie Foster,
Cal Tjader,
Parry Music,
Peter & Gordon,
the Slits,
Yellowson,
Mad Mike,
Quantec,
David Bowie,
the Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
Erasure,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Index,
China Crisis,
Negative Approach,
Darondo,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young,
UT,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Minutemen,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gladiators,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Finger,
Wire,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
Circle Jerks,
Bluetip,
Fat Boys,
The Barracudas,
the Normal,
Eric Copeland,
Piero Umiliani,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.