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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Scientists,
The Zeros,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
The Smoke,
Stetsasonic,
Pantytec,
The Martian,
In Retrospect,
Intrusion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Donald Byrd,
Jandek,
Japan,
Malaria!,
The Velvet Underground,
Stockholm Monsters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Aswad,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U,
Scion,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
The Divine Comedy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Pere Ubu,
UT,
Maurizio,
The Evens,
James White and The Blacks,
Quantec,
DJ Sneak,
Infiniti,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Jimmy McGriff,
David McCallum,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Osbourne,
Archie Shepp,
Soulsonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.