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 Mexico and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Goldenarms,
Black Pus,
The Buckinghams,
June Days,
Agitation Free,
JFA,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Unwound,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fat Boys,
Rapeman,
Blake Baxter,
the Swans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sight & Sound,
Eurythmics,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
The Searchers,
The Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
Television,
Don Cherry,
Public Enemy,
Ossler,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Order,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Byrd,
Aswad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
X-101,
Urselle,
Tres Demented,
a-ha,
New Age Steppers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
The Grass Roots,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.