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 Luxembourg and from London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 grime 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
Supertramp,
Black Moon,
Infiniti,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric Dolphy,
Colin Newman,
the Human League,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bluetip,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moby Grape,
The Beau Brummels,
Amazonics,
The Techniques,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Gang Dance,
Charles Mingus,
Don Cherry,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scratch Acid,
The Neon Judgement,
Smog,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brothers Johnson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Tubeway Army,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Blancmange,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Rotary Connection,
Bush Tetras,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.