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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Wire to the punk 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Delta 5,
Suicide,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lyres,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
CMW,
The Searchers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
Grey Daturas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Hot Snakes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Graham Central Station,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Slick Rick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
Laurel Aitken,
Ken Boothe,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
The Raincoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Hill,
Fugazi,
Lungfish,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Misunderstood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Second Layer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Faust,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.