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 Ghana and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
June of 44,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harry Pussy,
D'Angelo,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dead Boys,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Skaos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Los Fastidios,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harmonia,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Move,
Warren Ellis,
Malaria!,
Lakeside,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul II Soul,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Association,
Das Ding,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Ken Boothe,
Delta 5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
Quando Quango,
Joe Finger,
Von Mondo,
Arthur Verocai,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
The Music Machine,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Swans,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cecil Taylor,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.