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 Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Colin Newman,
Slick Rick,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
Amon Düül,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Funky Four + One,
Janne Schatter,
Idris Muhammad,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magazine,
Lower 48,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
The Divine Comedy,
Mandrill,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Rosa Yemen,
Kenny Larkin,
AZ,
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
DNA,
Alison Limerick,
Unrelated Segments,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxette,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Funkadelic,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deakin,
Smog,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.