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 the UAE and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Crash Course in Science,
Lightning Bolt,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ohio Players,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerri Chandler,
Funkadelic,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Sight & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
B.T. Express,
Josef K,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Groovy Waters,
Basic Channel,
Derrick May,
Amazonics,
Rod Modell,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Joy Division,
Cymande,
David McCallum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Clarke,
Mantronix,
Mark Hollis,
Excepter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Skatalites,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Audionom,
Liliput,
Maurizio,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Aswad,
Mission of Burma,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
John Holt,
Sandy B,
Adolescents,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
CMW,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.