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 Ukraine and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
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 oboe 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Litter,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
OOIOO,
Ohio Players,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kerri Chandler,
the Association,
The Martian,
DJ Style,
Gabor Szabo,
Hoover,
Q and Not U,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mark Hollis,
PIL,
The Black Dice,
Radiohead,
Arthur Verocai,
Rod Modell,
Davy DMX,
The Music Machine,
The Move,
Jandek,
Interpol,
Marcia Griffiths,
48th St. Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Trojans,
Robert Hood,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Raincoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Barracudas,
Skarface,
Morten Harket,
Max Romeo,
Todd Terry,
UT,
Motorama,
One Last Wish,
Goldenarms,
R.M.O.,
Chris & Cosey,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lebanon Hanover,
Intrusion,
Con Funk Shun,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.