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 Nepal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rakim 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Lungfish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dead Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
Fear,
Magazine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scientists,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siglo XX,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Organ,
Lyres,
Freddie Wadling,
Fad Gadget,
The Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantaleimon,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
The Slits,
Inner City,
The Remains,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
The Smiths,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
X-Ray Spex,
LL Cool J,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Green,
Pussy Galore,
Archie Shepp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Andrew Hill,
Gabor Szabo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joensuu 1685,
Brand Nubian,
8 Eyed Spy,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.