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 Ireland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
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 spring reverb 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 Bobby Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Juan Atkins,
Bang On A Can,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Sparks,
June Days,
Letta Mbulu,
Television,
KRS-One,
La Düsseldorf,
Al Stewart,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Technova,
Gong,
Faust,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti,
Warren Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Flash Fearless,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
Ronan,
June of 44,
The Fugs,
Slave,
Colin Newman,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Half Japanese,
Eden Ahbez,
Cheater Slicks,
Chrome,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Associates,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
Make Up,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
Black Moon,
Gang Starr,
Susan Cadogan,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.