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 Kosovo and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
The Misunderstood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Index,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Thompson Twins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bush Tetras,
June Days,
Minny Pops,
Crime,
Anthony Braxton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bauhaus,
Sugar Minott,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
L. Decosne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Remains,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
The Selecter,
JFA,
Ohio Players,
Dead Boys,
Newcleus,
Parry Music,
Heaven 17,
Henry Cow,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.