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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Johnny Clarke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pantaleimon,
The Cure,
Jawbox,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tommy Roe,
Pylon,
Eric Dolphy,
Dual Sessions,
Gabor Szabo,
Cecil Taylor,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Kinks,
R.M.O.,
Tim Buckley,
Pole,
Average White Band,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare,
Bauhaus,
Zapp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Peter & Gordon,
kango's stein massive,
Sex Pistols,
Q65,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wolf Eyes,
June of 44,
Fela Kuti,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
The Barracudas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
Smog,
Lyres,
Lalann,
Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.