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 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
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 organ 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 Bill Wells to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Deepchord,
Sällskapet,
Lightning Bolt,
The Standells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Christie,
Crime,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Knickerbockers,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
48th St. Collective,
DNA,
The Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Human League,
Marmalade,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moby Grape,
DJ Sneak,
Dorothy Ashby,
David McCallum,
Scientists,
the Soft Cell,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Teasers,
Radiohead,
The Gap Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cowsills,
Bluetip,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
This Heat,
Kas Product,
The Young Rascals,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Bar-Kays,
Animal Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Suburban Knight,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.