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 Ukraine 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Metal Thangz 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
FM Einheit,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Sight & Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Finger,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Can,
Heaven 17,
ABBA,
China Crisis,
Parry Music,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bad Manners,
Warren Ellis,
Howard Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joey Negro,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Marc Almond,
Intrusion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Five Americans,
Mission of Burma,
Make Up,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fatback Band,
cv313,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Porter Ricks,
CMW,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Shadows of Knight,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Toni Rubio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
Dave Gahan,
Lyres,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.