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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Scan 7 to the techno 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Roger Hodgson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kaleidoscope,
Half Japanese,
Nas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yellowson,
Bronski Beat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Schoolly D,
This Heat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Human League,
Mr. Review,
The Human League,
Visage,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
Delta 5,
The Mojo Men,
Sarah Menescal,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Gang of Four,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boz Scaggs,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Patti Smith,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Hood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Rosa Yemen,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Quando Quango,
Chrome,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.