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 Georgia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Cowsills to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Skriet,
the Normal,
Animal Collective,
The Cure,
Pierre Henry,
Rekid,
Buzzcocks,
Anthony Braxton,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brass Construction,
Barry Ungar,
Dual Sessions,
The Invisible,
Visage,
Scion,
Flipper,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
DJ Sneak,
Dave Gahan,
Judy Mowatt,
Deadbeat,
Neu!,
The Divine Comedy,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
The Velvet Underground,
Connie Case,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marmalade,
Tommy Roe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonic Youth,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Move,
Procol Harum,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.