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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
DJ Style,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Guru Guru,
Excepter,
D'Angelo,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
KRS-One,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Archie Shepp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Wells,
K-Klass,
Oneida,
Eurythmics,
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Modern Lovers,
Skarface,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Audionom,
The Barracudas,
The Searchers,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scientists,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Walker Brothers,
Inner City,
Cymande,
Pantytec,
Swell Maps,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Unwound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharoah Sanders,
Susan Cadogan,
The Durutti Column,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sonics,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.