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 Uganda and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
K-Klass,
Public Enemy,
Slave,
Davy DMX,
Nick Fraelich,
The Neon Judgement,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rapeman,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
Qualms,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Moon,
10cc,
Negative Approach,
Agent Orange,
Malaria!,
Barrington Levy,
the Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Move,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ludus,
Radiohead,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Section 25,
Darondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Heaven 17,
Barclay James Harvest,
David Bowie,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Angels of Light,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Foxx,
Kaleidoscope,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.