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 Denmark and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Gun Club to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
Gang Starr,
The Names,
Make Up,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fluxion,
Hoover,
Black Sheep,
The Monochrome Set,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantaleimon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
Steve Hackett,
Jacques Brel,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
U.S. Maple,
Aswad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
Joensuu 1685,
The New Christs,
Sonny Sharrock,
kango's stein massive,
The Slits,
Alphaville,
The Golliwogs,
Icehouse,
FM Einheit,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Soft Cell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-102,
The Real Kids,
Sällskapet,
The Happenings,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Altered Images,
PIL,
The Mojo Men,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.