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 Jordan and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Stereo Dub to the techno 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Joyce Sims,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
Organ,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Womack,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
The Gladiators,
The Pretty Things,
Donald Byrd,
Newcleus,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sällskapet,
Quadrant,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bob Dylan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Idris Muhammad,
Suicide,
Warren Ellis,
Radiohead,
Pussy Galore,
Parry Music,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Doors,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Con Funk Shun,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Icehouse,
Skarface,
Albert Ayler,
Slick Rick,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Nirvana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
Nick Fraelich,
Television,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.