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 Bahamas and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Country Teasers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Television,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Excepter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Hashim,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
JFA,
Pantaleimon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hasil Adkins,
The Moody Blues,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang On A Can,
David Axelrod,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
Soft Machine,
Organ,
Leonard Cohen,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Oblivians,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aural Exciters,
Pulsallama,
Dorothy Ashby,
Delon & Dalcan,
Silicon Teens,
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Eurythmics,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
Schoolly D,
Drexciya,
Underground Resistance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bronski Beat,
CMW,
Bluetip,
The Motions,
Bobby Womack,
Crooked Eye,
Sound Behaviour,
The Last Poets,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.