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 Suriname and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gil Scott Heron to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Zero Boys,
The Residents,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sister Nancy,
Black Bananas,
Archie Shepp,
kango's stein massive,
Babytalk,
FM Einheit,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
The Star Department,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris Corsano,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moss Icon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
The Busters,
John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deepchord,
The Saints,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Kas Product,
The Beau Brummels,
Harmonia,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Deadbeat,
Animal Collective,
DNA,
Minutemen,
The Pop Group,
Tubeway Army,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Popol Vuh,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
Das Ding,
Franke,
The Slits,
Heaven 17,
Fatback Band,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
Danielle Patucci,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.