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 Samoa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 Dead C to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Can,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Kenny Larkin,
Darondo,
The Gories,
Danielle Patucci,
Tubeway Army,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
The Standells,
The Toasters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nation of Ulysses,
Technova,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rakim,
Lou Reed,
Liliput,
Motorama,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Görl,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
One Last Wish,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mummies,
Black Sheep,
Lee Hazlewood,
Schoolly D,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Howard Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Carl Craig,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Lucky Dragons,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Clear Light,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.