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 Latvia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Byron Stingily to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Todd Terry,
Zero Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Birthday Party,
Sonny Sharrock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker,
the Bar-Kays,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
Darondo,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
New Age Steppers,
Letta Mbulu,
Circle Jerks,
This Heat,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eve St. Jones,
Carl Craig,
Blancmange,
The Blackbyrds,
Al Stewart,
Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants,
The Seeds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suicide,
The Busters,
Ohio Players,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
Kayak,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills,
JFA,
Visage,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rotary Connection,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jawbox,
Nick Fraelich,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.