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 Australia and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the jazz 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
Pole,
Rhythm & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grauzone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sparks,
Cybotron,
Flash Fearless,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
These Immortal Souls,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
Lyres,
David Bowie,
Thompson Twins,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeff Mills,
Grey Daturas,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
The Mummies,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Sherman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aswad,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
R.M.O.,
Fela Kuti,
Von Mondo,
Infiniti,
Can,
The Gories,
Masters at Work,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
Lebanon Hanover,
Panda Bear,
Faust,
Deakin,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barry Ungar,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Machine,
Guru Guru,
Fad Gadget,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience.
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.