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 Tonga and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 Bizarre Inc. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
The Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
L. Decosne,
Radiohead,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barrington Levy,
Deakin,
Cecil Taylor,
Model 500,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Lightning Bolt,
the Bar-Kays,
Spoonie Gee,
Joyce Sims,
Monks,
Y Pants,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
B.T. Express,
Bluetip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Suburban Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Rundgren,
Hardrive,
Johnny Clarke,
Scientists,
Technova,
Talk Talk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wire,
Kayak,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gun Club,
The Gladiators,
New Order,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
MC5,
Ice-T,
Maurizio,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
Nico,
Althea and Donna,
Toni Rubio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Fraelich,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultravox,
Boredoms,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.