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 Lebanon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Mo-Dettes to the disco 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Scion,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Cameo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roger Hodgson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Copeland,
Infiniti,
Country Teasers,
Inner City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cecil Taylor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Metal Thangz,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
Scan 7,
Barrington Levy,
The Seeds,
Television Personalities,
The Walker Brothers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aswad,
UT,
Glambeats Corp.,
Graham Central Station,
Neu!,
The Gladiators,
Malaria!,
Duran Duran,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cheater Slicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter & Gordon,
Oneida,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
June Days,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
The Invisible,
Reagan Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.