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 Dominica and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Dorothy Ashby to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus 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?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masters at Work,
Deepchord,
Arab on Radar,
L. Decosne,
Faraquet,
Bob Dylan,
EPMD,
Derrick May,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oneida,
Das Ding,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Busters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rufus Thomas,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
Mars,
Pole,
Ituana,
Brass Construction,
Wings,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
Shoche,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
the Human League,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Archie Shepp,
The Sonics,
Dennis Brown,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Gong,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
DNA,
Delta 5,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.