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 East Timor and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Little Man to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Sneak,
David Bowie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grey Daturas,
Shoche,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eddi Front,
Darondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Machine,
Moebius,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ten City,
Oblivians,
Hoover,
KRS-One,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Silicon Teens,
Bluetip,
The Beau Brummels,
Quando Quango,
Tommy Roe,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
Cluster,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Easy Going,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
The Associates,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
PIL,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeff Lynne,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.