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 Chile and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Johnny Clarke to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
John Cale,
X-101,
The Motions,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moss Icon,
Camouflage,
Skaos,
Iggy Pop,
Amon Düül,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
Jawbox,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Radiohead,
Jeff Mills,
The Detroit Cobras,
Porter Ricks,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Mandrill,
Soulsonic Force,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Clear Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Crooked Eye,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Byrd,
Essential Logic,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blues Magoos,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pole,
Underground Resistance,
Half Japanese,
The Searchers,
Fear,
Erykah Badu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.