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 Venezuela and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 The Fall to the rap 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The American Breed,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül,
Khruangbin,
The Busters,
Heaven 17,
Marc Almond,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Negative Approach,
Desert Stars,
Cal Tjader,
Supertramp,
The Slackers,
David Axelrod,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun City Girls,
The Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ituana,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Jeff Lynne,
Lalann,
the Germs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
Slick Rick,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
Marvin Gaye,
Flash Fearless,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Unwound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dave Gahan,
Man Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smiths,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.