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 Chile and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Supertramp to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Radiopuhelimet,
Icehouse,
Graham Central Station,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gories,
The Moody Blues,
Drexciya,
Faust,
Roger Hodgson,
The Golliwogs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boz Scaggs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Hoover,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
The Durutti Column,
Ituana,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Bourne,
Rites of Spring,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Little Man,
Vladislav Delay,
CMW,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Reed,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
Fat Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
OOIOO,
Matthew Halsall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wolf Eyes,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.