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 Norway 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Detroit Cobras to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
R.M.O.,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
Surgeon,
Ossler,
the Bar-Kays,
Eli Mardock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
The J.B.'s,
Talk Talk,
Sugar Minott,
Au Pairs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-102,
EPMD,
Section 25,
Funkadelic,
the Swans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Kenny Larkin,
Cybotron,
The Count Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The American Breed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donny Hathaway,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Model 500,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
Albert Ayler,
Pussy Galore,
Duran Duran,
Minutemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Parry Music,
The New Christs,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Slave,
Pylon,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.