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 Ukraine and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hasil Adkins 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Sight & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Selecter,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unwound,
John Foxx,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angry Samoans,
Mandrill,
Ultravox,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dual Sessions,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Sex Pistols,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ten City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
Infiniti,
X-Ray Spex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bush Tetras,
Mad Mike,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
Boredoms,
Masters at Work,
Scott Walker,
Jacques Brel,
Smog,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boz Scaggs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Blake Baxter,
Eve St. Jones,
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
Siglo XX,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.