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 Mauritius and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The J.B.'s to the punk 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
Monolake,
Pierre Henry,
Royal Trux,
The Black Dice,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
John Lydon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suicide,
The Moleskins,
Tres Demented,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Althea and Donna,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
Pantytec,
Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Dolphy,
John Holt,
Archie Shepp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Ossler,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Selecter,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
Rites of Spring,
Todd Terry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James White and The Blacks,
Connie Case,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
cv313,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Halsall,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
AZ,
Dave Gahan,
Nas,
Radio Birdman,
the Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Colin Newman,
Patti Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
U.S. Maple,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.