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 Suriname and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Enemy,
Surgeon,
Angry Samoans,
Delta 5,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
Japan,
Avey Tare,
Robert Hood,
ABBA,
Jawbox,
The Golliwogs,
Todd Rundgren,
Rufus Thomas,
Sixth Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Infiniti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls,
Lindisfarne,
The Names,
Adolescents,
Leonard Cohen,
Glenn Branca,
Organ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
Robert Görl,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alton Ellis,
Letta Mbulu,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Mr. Review,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gladiators,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.