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 Congo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Yaz to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
The Vogues,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Altered Images,
Visage,
The Real Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Iggy Pop,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
The Motions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Television,
Magma,
Minor Threat,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
Thompson Twins,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camouflage,
Brothers Johnson,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Josef K,
Aural Exciters,
Animal Collective,
the Normal,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
KRS-One,
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
Heaven 17,
The Litter,
Pantytec,
Public Enemy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Fad Gadget,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Depeche Mode,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.