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 Grenada and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 These Immortal Souls to the grunge 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cure,
Hoover,
Metal Thangz,
The Real Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Red Krayola,
Liliput,
Zapp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pagans,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Tremeloes,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
Scientists,
Slave,
Theoretical Girls,
The Offenders,
Yaz,
The Monochrome Set,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Wake,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
The Dirtbombs,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
R.M.O.,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The American Breed,
The Smiths,
Franke,
The Star Department,
X-Ray Spex,
The Litter,
The Seeds,
The Knickerbockers,
Ten City,
Dark Day,
Cluster,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
David McCallum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Moon,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.