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 Kenya and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Desert Stars,
Wasted Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Mandrill,
Bill Wells,
L. Decosne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Last Poets,
Zero Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Move,
Basic Channel,
The Music Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Rites of Spring,
Skarface,
The Gories,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pagans,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Terry,
The Associates,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mummies,
Gregory Isaacs,
Godley & Creme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June Days,
48th St. Collective,
Colin Newman,
Warsaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Certain Ratio,
Scratch Acid,
Blossom Toes,
Mr. Review,
Essential Logic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Niagra,
AZ,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
Leonard Cohen,
OOIOO,
Connie Case,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ornette Coleman,
Thompson Twins,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.