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 Korea North and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sound Behaviour to the grime 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suburban Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
The Barracudas,
Clear Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Chris & Cosey,
Grey Daturas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Animal Collective,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
The Walker Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Aswad,
Hardrive,
Glenn Branca,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
Lower 48,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fat Boys,
The New Christs,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Motorama,
Cal Tjader,
U.S. Maple,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
48th St. Collective,
Bad Manners,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
Inner City,
New Age Steppers,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.