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 Dominican Republic and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 The Martian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '60s 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 Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crash Course in Science,
One Last Wish,
The Happenings,
Agitation Free,
Barry Ungar,
Yellowson,
The Barracudas,
Aswad,
The Angels of Light,
Howard Jones,
Joey Negro,
Aaron Thompson,
Bob Dylan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
New York Dolls,
The Mojo Men,
The Toasters,
The Red Krayola,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Moody Blues,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Brothers Johnson,
Donny Hathaway,
Skaos,
Pagans,
L. Decosne,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moleskins,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
The Pop Group,
Darondo,
Bad Manners,
Joyce Sims,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Absolute Body Control,
Crime,
Drexciya,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soul Sonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Dark Day,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Rod Modell,
Rosa Yemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
D'Angelo,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.