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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
DJ Style,
Agitation Free,
Saccharine Trust,
The Trojans,
Dawn Penn,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Stiv Bators,
The Music Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Marine Girls,
The Litter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Rufus Thomas,
Country Teasers,
Henry Cow,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Malaria!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
The Index,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
Laurel Aitken,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Funkadelic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The J.B.'s,
Hot Snakes,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed,
Livin' Joy,
Visage,
The Modern Lovers,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.