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 Gambia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Accadde A,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alison Limerick,
The Real Kids,
The Searchers,
The Fortunes,
China Crisis,
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultravox,
Pagans,
Blossom Toes,
the Germs,
Slick Rick,
the Swans,
Camberwell Now,
Kerrie Biddell,
Anthony Braxton,
Fugazi,
New Order,
The United States of America,
R.M.O.,
Franke,
Simply Red,
Dawn Penn,
Outsiders,
Bobby Byrd,
Camouflage,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Clarke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shoche,
Monks,
Fear,
The Toasters,
The Fugs,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cure,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.