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 Madagascar and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gladiators,
Basic Channel,
Toni Rubio,
Cal Tjader,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Stiv Bators,
Dark Day,
Khruangbin,
10cc,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
The Count Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Althea and Donna,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun Ra,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Sneak,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
Buzzcocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fat Boys,
Das Ding,
Aswad,
Anakelly,
Eurythmics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Alice Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
Sam Rivers,
Patti Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Byrd,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Motions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Monks,
Model 500,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fear,
Jimmy McGriff,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultravox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.