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 Sierra Leone and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 L. Decosne to the jazz 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television Personalities,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Sister Nancy,
Wings,
Colin Newman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
Hashim,
Flipper,
The Victims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
Eddi Front,
The Moleskins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
Michelle Simonal,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
Soulsonic Force,
Underground Resistance,
The Cowsills,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Shuggie Otis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Sugar Minott,
Black Moon,
Rufus Thomas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
The Fuzztones,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
Los Fastidios,
Kurtis Blow,
Jandek,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.