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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Laurel Aitken,
Crooked Eye,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gong,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
The Mojo Men,
Groovy Waters,
Todd Rundgren,
Todd Terry,
Brass Construction,
Morten Harket,
Crispy Ambulance,
Funky Four + One,
John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Lyres,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
The Angels of Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Maurizio,
Piero Umiliani,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pole,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Adolescents,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
Scrapy,
The Dirtbombs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rufus Thomas,
World's Most,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
The Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agent Orange,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Main Source,
Warsaw,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Leonard Cohen,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barrington Levy,
Negative Approach,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Moebius,
New York Dolls,
Cymande,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.