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 Qatar 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Freddie Wadling,
Tim Buckley,
The Litter,
Underground Resistance,
R.M.O.,
Yaz,
Nico,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
The Cramps,
David McCallum,
Delta 5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronan,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Funkadelic,
Sight & Sound,
The Star Department,
Scion,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Barbara Tucker,
Lyres,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Clarke,
Cameo,
The Offenders,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Adolescents,
the Slits,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Chris Corsano,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.