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 Tanzania and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide 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?
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric Dolphy,
The Angels of Light,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dave Clark Five,
Groovy Waters,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
the Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mark Hollis,
Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alphaville,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
the Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doors,
Sparks,
Echospace,
Talk Talk,
Wolf Eyes,
Godley & Creme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Parrish,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
New Order,
The Gap Band,
Quadrant,
Absolute Body Control,
The Smoke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Toasters,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Animal Collective,
Minor Threat,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eurythmics,
Qualms,
Kas Product,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.