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 Burkina and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Lungfish to the disco 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Sandy B,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Circle Jerks,
June Days,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Charles Mingus,
Panda Bear,
The Misunderstood,
Ohio Players,
Prince Buster,
Davy DMX,
Fat Boys,
KRS-One,
Tres Demented,
Godley & Creme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crooked Eye,
Aaron Thompson,
Juan Atkins,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Starr,
Gong,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
A Certain Ratio,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grauzone,
Soft Machine,
The Kinks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacob Miller,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Porter Ricks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Royal Trux,
Desert Stars,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.