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 Israel and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Prince Buster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
The Tremeloes,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Kayak,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Fear,
cv313,
Sight & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roxy Music,
The Toasters,
Lungfish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Easy Going,
Jerry's Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
Mission of Burma,
The American Breed,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
The J.B.'s,
The Cramps,
Reagan Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Smooth,
Pagans,
The Move,
Piero Umiliani,
Donald Byrd,
Carl Craig,
Roxette,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
Rapeman,
Aaron Thompson,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Junior Murvin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Can,
Faust,
Second Layer,
Alison Limerick,
Aural Exciters,
The Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
Thee Headcoats,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mummies,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.