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 Lithuania and from Portland.
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 Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sonic Youth to the rock 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Nick Fraelich,
Quando Quango,
The Trojans,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stereo Dub,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Franke,
Underground Resistance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joey Negro,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
Graham Central Station,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Peter & Gordon,
The Martian,
Neil Young,
The Modern Lovers,
The Walker Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Stetsasonic,
The Mummies,
Laurel Aitken,
Fatback Band,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
The Blues Magoos,
Negative Approach,
Index,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Mills,
Bauhaus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bluetip,
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Ultravox,
The J.B.'s,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
Infiniti,
the Association,
Maurizio,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.