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 Niger and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Index to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Arcadia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dawn Penn,
John Lydon,
Jandek,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June of 44,
Reuben Wilson,
Organ,
the Human League,
Bobby Byrd,
Magazine,
Q65,
Vladislav Delay,
Newcleus,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
The Angels of Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
Blake Baxter,
Peter & Gordon,
The Five Americans,
R.M.O.,
Fear,
ABBA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ituana,
Lou Reed,
Gichy Dan,
Josef K,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
Warsaw,
The New Christs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
David Bowie,
Animal Collective,
The Slits,
Negative Approach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Spoonie Gee,
John Holt,
The Young Rascals,
The Wake,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Quadrant,
Fat Boys,
OOIOO,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.