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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cluster to the funk 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Moody Blues,
Bill Wells,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yazoo,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
LL Cool J,
D'Angelo,
Banda Bassotti,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Cell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sällskapet,
David Axelrod,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
James White and The Blacks,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
The New Christs,
Q and Not U,
Clear Light,
Ken Boothe,
Second Layer,
Visage,
Scan 7,
Lindisfarne,
The Residents,
Negative Approach,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
June Days,
Bizarre Inc.,
Freddie Wadling,
Simply Red,
PIL,
Angry Samoans,
Eddi Front,
Wolf Eyes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rufus Thomas,
Das Ding,
Crooked Eye,
the Soft Cell,
Von Mondo,
Josef K,
The Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
The Remains,
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül II,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.