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 Lesotho and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
The Pretty Things,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Womack,
The Velvet Underground,
Spoonie Gee,
Soulsonic Force,
Supertramp,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dawn Penn,
Boogie Down Productions,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Green,
Wolf Eyes,
Vladislav Delay,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Slave,
Scott Walker,
Scan 7,
Aural Exciters,
H. Thieme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
Zapp,
Metal Thangz,
Bronski Beat,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Victims,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Hill,
Alice Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
the Human League,
The Doors,
Pulsallama,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Leaves,
Youth Brigade,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.