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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
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 oboe 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 48th St. Collective to the funk 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Harpers Bizarre,
PIL,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
Eddi Front,
Mars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
Soft Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Bill Near,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
Grauzone,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Sherman,
Gichy Dan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q and Not U,
Slick Rick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alphaville,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monolake,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Techniques,
DNA,
Arcadia,
Ken Boothe,
Altered Images,
Chris Corsano,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
The Black Dice,
Mad Mike,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Charles Mingus,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.