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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Maleditus Sound to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Wire,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Pantytec,
Ice-T,
The Cure,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
The Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cluster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mummies,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Deadbeat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Supertramp,
The Pop Group,
Parry Music,
ABBA,
Depeche Mode,
Minnie Riperton,
The Black Dice,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
The Cramps,
The Young Rascals,
Gichy Dan,
The Names,
Spoonie Gee,
the Human League,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Pus,
Camberwell Now,
Minor Threat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Normal,
Flipper,
10cc,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
Al Stewart,
Crime,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Iggy Pop,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
Jacques Brel,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.