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 Uganda and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
John Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Cluster,
Maleditus Sound,
the Normal,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
Malaria!,
Tom Boy,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Al Stewart,
Minor Threat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cowsills,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
Pulsallama,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Velvet Underground,
The Motions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faust,
The Count Five,
Mr. Review,
Bronski Beat,
Minny Pops,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Easy Going,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Iggy Pop,
Roxy Music,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donald Byrd,
Subhumans,
Nico,
Talk Talk,
Cymande,
The Smiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Searchers,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skriet,
Mantronix,
Scientists,
Skaos,
Joyce Sims,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.