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 Andorra and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Popol Vuh,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Second Layer,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Curtis Mayfield,
Babytalk,
Bronski Beat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
Drexciya,
The Dave Clark Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
Goldenarms,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Connie Case,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Outsiders,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Dolphy,
Monolake,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.