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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Sister Nancy to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Hot Snakes,
The Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Janne Schatter,
Funkadelic,
Blancmange,
Bobby Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Donny Hathaway,
Quantec,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Amon Düül,
Lebanon Hanover,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marvin Gaye,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
Sonic Youth,
10cc,
The Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
Livin' Joy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eden Ahbez,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agitation Free,
UT,
Interpol,
Moebius,
Soulsonic Force,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
Graham Central Station,
Grauzone,
Inner City,
Public Enemy,
Lalann,
James White and The Blacks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Magma,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Maurizio,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Mark Hollis,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.