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 Montenegro and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Q65 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cowsills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Techniques,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thompson Twins,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Theoretical Girls,
The Last Poets,
Saccharine Trust,
U.S. Maple,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Drexciya,
Supertramp,
Tubeway Army,
Niagra,
Darondo,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
Reagan Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Parrish,
Eddi Front,
The Divine Comedy,
Fugazi,
The Pop Group,
Crash Course in Science,
Rotary Connection,
Sun Ra,
Moebius,
the Germs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Copeland,
Skarface,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Au Pairs,
The New Christs,
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Soul II Soul,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Deepchord,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.