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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Whodini to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moleskins,
Babytalk,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
kango's stein massive,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Archie Shepp,
The Misunderstood,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Robert Görl,
Bush Tetras,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
World's Most,
Albert Ayler,
Von Mondo,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Michelle Simonal,
Funkadelic,
Pere Ubu,
Nico,
FM Einheit,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joey Negro,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Rosa Yemen,
K-Klass,
Alison Limerick,
DJ Sneak,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.