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 Bahrain and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
The Index,
Oneida,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Reagan Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Gregory Isaacs,
Don Cherry,
China Crisis,
ABC,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Isaac Hayes,
Howard Jones,
Erasure,
Public Enemy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Niagra,
The Trojans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
David McCallum,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
Second Layer,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.