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 Estonia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 June Days to the funk 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Hasil Adkins,
Los Fastidios,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Al Stewart,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare,
Television Personalities,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sam Rivers,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang of Four,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Goldenarms,
The Monks,
Leonard Cohen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
The Last Poets,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Archie Shepp,
The New Christs,
T.S.O.L.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris Corsano,
Moebius,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Basic Channel,
The American Breed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aural Exciters,
Graham Central Station,
Lalann,
Minny Pops,
Amazonics,
Rod Modell,
Quadrant,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skriet,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
the Germs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Saccharine Trust,
Tommy Roe,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.