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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
Sandy B,
Albert Ayler,
Aural Exciters,
The Techniques,
David Bowie,
Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Sister Nancy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
EPMD,
The Vogues,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Shuggie Otis,
Unwound,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Raincoats,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Malaria!,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Names,
Joe Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
June of 44,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
Moebius,
Flamin' Groovies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mantronix,
Gabor Szabo,
Faraquet,
The Pop Group,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonic Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Max Romeo,
Magazine,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Near,
Jawbox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Babytalk,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.