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 Bangladesh and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
The Slackers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thompson Twins,
Scan 7,
Bad Manners,
Isaac Hayes,
John Foxx,
Qualms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
The Pop Group,
Black Sheep,
The Gun Club,
Robert Wyatt,
Charles Mingus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fugazi,
Icehouse,
The Fugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cymande,
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Pole,
New York Dolls,
The Move,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Agent Orange,
John Cale,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Excepter,
Television,
Slick Rick,
Technova,
The Fortunes,
The Misunderstood,
Silicon Teens,
Fad Gadget,
ABBA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magazine,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacob Miller,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Second Layer,
Funky Four + One,
Au Pairs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Monks,
Alphaville,
Pantytec,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.