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 Qatar and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blossom Toes to the techno 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Todd Terry,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
Big Daddy Kane,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
Davy DMX,
The Durutti Column,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quantec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Bill Near,
Dawn Penn,
Groovy Waters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
Black Flag,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
Gichy Dan,
Essential Logic,
Franke,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
The Neon Judgement,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pagans,
Infiniti,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.