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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Moleskins,
Peter and Kerry,
Mr. Review,
Sight & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Panda Bear,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Animal Collective,
Smog,
Joe Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
Skarface,
Gichy Dan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
CMW,
Deakin,
Lou Reed,
Qualms,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yellowson,
Funkadelic,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cowsills,
Avey Tare,
Jerry's Kids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Judy Mowatt,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nils Olav,
Monolake,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Womack,
The Angels of Light,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.