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 Niger and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Prince Buster to the punk 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Y Pants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
K-Klass,
The Move,
Guru Guru,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
AZ,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
Make Up,
Tim Buckley,
Lower 48,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television Personalities,
Cecil Taylor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül,
The Dead C,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gladiators,
Moebius,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lyres,
Reuben Wilson,
Groovy Waters,
Black Bananas,
Thee Headcoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
The Residents,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Star Department,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
Crime,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ken Boothe,
The Fall,
Scott Walker,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.