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 Paraguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Banda Bassotti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kenny Larkin,
Eve St. Jones,
Camouflage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mad Mike,
The Divine Comedy,
Second Layer,
Barry Ungar,
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Henry Cow,
Severed Heads,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Scrapy,
The Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heaven 17,
Newcleus,
Drexciya,
The Move,
Wire,
Terry Callier,
Skaos,
Quadrant,
the Normal,
The Gories,
Kaleidoscope,
AZ,
Silicon Teens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Sherman,
Warren Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Standells,
Oneida,
The Mummies,
The Fuzztones,
Fad Gadget,
Neu!,
Anthony Braxton,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
This Heat,
John Cale,
Eddi Front,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.