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 Singapore and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rock 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
Index,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Bourne,
Excepter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skaos,
The Young Rascals,
Slave,
Mad Mike,
The Cure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lindisfarne,
Chris & Cosey,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ponytail,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Youth Brigade,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
Bootsy Collins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Soft Cell,
The Golliwogs,
Tommy Roe,
Joe Smooth,
Masters at Work,
Rod Modell,
The Smoke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fortunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hardrive,
Funky Four + One,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.