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 Mozambique and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Sugar Minott,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
ABC,
Theoretical Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Barracudas,
Mark Hollis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harmonia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
Barry Ungar,
The Techniques,
Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Unwound,
Fad Gadget,
The Real Kids,
Negative Approach,
The New Christs,
The Music Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
The Fuzztones,
Carl Craig,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs,
Scrapy,
Magma,
Qualms,
Scott Walker,
Livin' Joy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
kango's stein massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Lyres,
The Divine Comedy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harpers Bizarre,
David McCallum,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.