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 Guyana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Raincoats,
Crooked Eye,
Inner City,
Chrome,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül II,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Blossom Toes,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
The Cure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
The Beau Brummels,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
Lyres,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Colin Newman,
L. Decosne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delta 5,
Judy Mowatt,
UT,
The Red Krayola,
Howard Jones,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
Patti Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronnie Foster,
Grey Daturas,
Minor Threat,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
Cecil Taylor,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.