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 Gambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
The Residents,
Matthew Bourne,
Index,
Ice-T,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Althea and Donna,
Henry Cow,
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Slave,
48th St. Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Lucky Dragons,
Scratch Acid,
Lightning Bolt,
Wire,
Urselle,
Yaz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
CMW,
Boredoms,
Nas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dark Day,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drive Like Jehu,
PIL,
The Last Poets,
The Slackers,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dead C,
The Angels of Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Womack,
The Cure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad,
Technova,
Jerry's Kids,
Brand Nubian,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.