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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Juan Atkins 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick,
Pierre Henry,
Bob Dylan,
Outsiders,
Hasil Adkins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flipper,
Todd Rundgren,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Todd Terry,
T.S.O.L.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Germs,
The Gun Club,
Main Source,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Trumans Water,
Crime,
Fear,
Q and Not U,
The Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Moss Icon,
Pulsallama,
Amon Düül II,
Newcleus,
Josef K,
New Order,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
The J.B.'s,
The Slits,
The Five Americans,
Yusef Lateef,
Zapp,
This Heat,
Kerri Chandler,
The Raincoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
Carl Craig,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
Ronan,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Organ,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.