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 Bahamas and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Porter Ricks to the rap 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Motorama,
Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dead Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Qualms,
Tres Demented,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roger Hodgson,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Human League,
Robert Hood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Grauzone,
Aswad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Ken Boothe,
Sällskapet,
MC5,
Agitation Free,
Colin Newman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Kinks,
Vainqueur,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
Urselle,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hashim,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.