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 Nigeria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 Yusef Lateef to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Skriet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Section 25,
Agent Orange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bauhaus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
The Knickerbockers,
Rufus Thomas,
La Düsseldorf,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
One Last Wish,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Pus,
Jawbox,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Idris Muhammad,
The Birthday Party,
Oblivians,
Masters at Work,
Lightning Bolt,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Little Man,
Guru Guru,
Gichy Dan,
Underground Resistance,
Roxy Music,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
Scrapy,
Lower 48,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
Archie Shepp,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.