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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Litter to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Sugar Minott,
Kerrie Biddell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Erykah Badu,
Pierre Henry,
Lucky Dragons,
The Standells,
Bush Tetras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Graham Central Station,
Peter & Gordon,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deepchord,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fugazi,
Organ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Urselle,
Drive Like Jehu,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fugs,
The Vogues,
The Cure,
EPMD,
Joe Finger,
Sonic Youth,
Ponytail,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
Donald Byrd,
Scan 7,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
Thompson Twins,
Make Up,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun Ra,
The Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
Essential Logic,
Don Cherry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
The Electric Prunes,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.