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 Syria and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rock 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Subhumans,
Bluetip,
X-Ray Spex,
Juan Atkins,
Qualms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Section 25,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unwound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells,
The Standells,
The J.B.'s,
The Dirtbombs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultra Naté,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Monochrome Set,
Ossler,
Simply Red,
Grey Daturas,
Marmalade,
The Evens,
Jawbox,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Nils Olav,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Drexciya,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anakelly,
Fat Boys,
Arcadia,
Monolake,
Skarface,
New York Dolls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
Archie Shepp,
Accadde A,
The Star Department,
Sight & Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Excepter,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.