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 Colombia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shoche,
Dennis Brown,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magma,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Urselle,
Eden Ahbez,
Average White Band,
Saccharine Trust,
X-101,
Lakeside,
Grey Daturas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slits,
Junior Murvin,
Pylon,
The Fugs,
T. Rex,
Marmalade,
The Smiths,
Danielle Patucci,
Mandrill,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kaleidoscope,
LL Cool J,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
Con Funk Shun,
Alphaville,
Erasure,
Kenny Larkin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Audionom,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Japan,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.