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 Togo and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 the Swans to the grunge 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dead C,
Crooked Eye,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Skatalites,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bluetip,
James White and The Blacks,
Reagan Youth,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tommy Roe,
Althea and Donna,
The Monochrome Set,
Mo-Dettes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül II,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Kenny Larkin,
Barrington Levy,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
the Swans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
R.M.O.,
The Associates,
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Los Fastidios,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.