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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Black Sheep to the crunk 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Nirvana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Neon Judgement,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Khruangbin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siglo XX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pole,
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
R.M.O.,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Graham Central Station,
David Bowie,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed,
Radiohead,
Half Japanese,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eli Mardock,
Zero Boys,
Niagra,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
Slave,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joy Division,
Gabor Szabo,
Interpol,
The Blues Magoos,
Vladislav Delay,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.