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 Thailand and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Das Ding 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Litter,
Darondo,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yusef Lateef,
Funkadelic,
Kerri Chandler,
Zapp,
Warsaw,
Cluster,
These Immortal Souls,
Josef K,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
The Skatalites,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Vogues,
Minny Pops,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Depeche Mode,
Intrusion,
Fela Kuti,
The New Christs,
Gong,
Half Japanese,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Bananas,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
Crime,
Sandy B,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
The Dead C,
Joensuu 1685,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
David Axelrod,
Tears for Fears,
Hot Snakes,
Ultra Naté,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Womack,
Crash Course in Science,
Vladislav Delay,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.