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 Italy and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Procol Harum to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
EPMD,
Barbara Tucker,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cymande,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Excepter,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barrington Levy,
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television,
AZ,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ohio Players,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sight & Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Interpol,
Banda Bassotti,
cv313,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül,
Bush Tetras,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
Barry Ungar,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Negative Approach,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Green,
Scratch Acid,
Boredoms,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
Judy Mowatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zapp,
Panda Bear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Walker Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nils Olav,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.