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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the dance 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Morten Harket,
Sound Behaviour,
Kas Product,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
Darondo,
Quantec,
Massinfluence,
Swell Maps,
Rakim,
Rapeman,
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
The Velvet Underground,
Leonard Cohen,
Infiniti,
Robert Görl,
The Index,
Ituana,
Arcadia,
Black Flag,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
JFA,
Public Image Ltd.,
James White and The Blacks,
Fear,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
EPMD,
Fluxion,
Slick Rick,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
Derrick May,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Sheep,
The Five Americans,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.