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 Ireland and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Kayak to the dance 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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
John Holt,
Patti Smith,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Circle Jerks,
JFA,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Roger Hodgson,
Basic Channel,
Stetsasonic,
Black Pus,
Rites of Spring,
Skriet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Durutti Column,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
The Electric Prunes,
Lakeside,
Tubeway Army,
Sun City Girls,
Sällskapet,
Outsiders,
The Last Poets,
UT,
Accadde A,
B.T. Express,
F. McDonald,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sam Rivers,
Jawbox,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Connie Case,
Hashim,
Slave,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Minor Threat,
The Zeros,
The Dead C,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Womack,
Stockholm Monsters,
Darondo,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.