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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nico to the jazz 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
World's Most,
Jacques Brel,
The Divine Comedy,
CMW,
The Neon Judgement,
The Music Machine,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
Yusef Lateef,
Siglo XX,
Blossom Toes,
Boredoms,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
The Star Department,
K-Klass,
Slick Rick,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tears for Fears,
Rites of Spring,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cure,
Rosa Yemen,
Funkadelic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
Delta 5,
Chris & Cosey,
Aural Exciters,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
Suburban Knight,
DJ Style,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.