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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lou Reed 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 Susan Cadogan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Roy Ayers,
Dennis Brown,
The Standells,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra,
Amazonics,
The Gories,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Public Enemy,
Andrew Hill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Wasted Youth,
Depeche Mode,
Man Parrish,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
the Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Godley & Creme,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
Maleditus Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Morten Harket,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Pagans,
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tom Boy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Human League,
Bill Wells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May,
Johnny Clarke,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott,
Simply Red,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Livin' Joy,
The Invisible,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
Boz Scaggs,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.