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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Patti Smith to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Wings,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
Erykah Badu,
The Cowsills,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
Main Source,
Flipper,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
T.S.O.L.,
Goldenarms,
The Pretty Things,
Groovy Waters,
In Retrospect,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
Motorama,
Unwound,
Junior Murvin,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
U.S. Maple,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Flash Fearless,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brothers Johnson,
Ohio Players,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
Animal Collective,
The Move,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
The Blackbyrds,
Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crime,
Das Ding,
Los Fastidios,
The Five Americans,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dead C,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.