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 Burkina and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Alton Ellis to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Robert Hood,
Scrapy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Can,
Fear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blancmange,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Agitation Free,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gories,
Japan,
OOIOO,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Newcleus,
Pere Ubu,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
Rufus Thomas,
Scion,
Zapp,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül,
Stockholm Monsters,
Patti Smith,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
The Remains,
John Lydon,
Second Layer,
Minutemen,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Colin Newman,
The Golliwogs,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Panda Bear,
Mr. Review,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
The Mummies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eurythmics,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.