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 China and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
The Grass Roots,
Colin Newman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Moebius,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pulsallama,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Velvet Underground,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
Oneida,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
The Durutti Column,
Mission of Burma,
The Angels of Light,
Country Teasers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Toasters,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
The Index,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Althea and Donna,
the Soft Cell,
Eric Dolphy,
Skriet,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
David Bowie,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms,
Ken Boothe,
Camouflage,
The Motions,
Index,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Pere Ubu,
Anakelly,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.