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 Zimbabwe and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Essential Logic to the techno 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
The Leaves,
Graham Central Station,
Brand Nubian,
The Searchers,
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
Alphaville,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
The Invisible,
Supertramp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fatback Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Grey Daturas,
UT,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minor Threat,
Liliput,
Metal Thangz,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Wells,
Echospace,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Flipper,
The Knickerbockers,
Little Man,
the Swans,
Das Ding,
Jerry's Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
Blake Baxter,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mummies,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Pus,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.