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 Ireland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
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 chamberlin 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 Cymande to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
Connie Case,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
Half Japanese,
Wire,
Nico,
Mantronix,
Brass Construction,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Style,
The Gap Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spandau Ballet,
Bush Tetras,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Desert Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Au Pairs,
the Germs,
Henry Cow,
Nils Olav,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roger Hodgson,
Alison Limerick,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Gichy Dan,
The Red Krayola,
Mission of Burma,
Ludus,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Bourne,
Flash Fearless,
Brick,
Pere Ubu,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Prunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Clarke,
Kayak,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
The Seeds,
John Holt,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
Public Enemy,
Radiohead,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.