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 Thailand and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Busters to the grime 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '90s.
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 Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Babytalk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Toni Rubio,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
Camberwell Now,
Flash Fearless,
Eve St. Jones,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Peter and Kerry,
Bob Dylan,
Symarip,
Mo-Dettes,
Moss Icon,
Soul II Soul,
Blossom Toes,
Pantaleimon,
The Pretty Things,
Eric Copeland,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
Brick,
Danielle Patucci,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
The Move,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
Organ,
Hashim,
Swans,
ABC,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thompson Twins,
Tears for Fears,
Erykah Badu,
DNA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
the Slits,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
Rotary Connection,
Index,
Animal Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Pierre Henry,
L. Decosne,
E-Dancer,
Amon Düül II,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.