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 Colombia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Mantronix to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
AZ,
Jacob Miller,
Dave Gahan,
Sällskapet,
Eddi Front,
Skriet,
Magazine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Smooth,
the Normal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radio Birdman,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultra Naté,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blues Magoos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
Agent Orange,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Pus,
Schoolly D,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brand Nubian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultravox,
Amazonics,
Joyce Sims,
Reuben Wilson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Zapp,
Desert Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris Corsano,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Finger,
Marc Almond,
Faust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Adolescents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
Cecil Taylor,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Althea and Donna,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.