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 Iceland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 The Stooges to the funk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Wings,
Faust,
The Real Kids,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Severed Heads,
David Bowie,
Mr. Review,
Sparks,
Lalann,
Lucky Dragons,
The Leaves,
Siglo XX,
Flipper,
The Gladiators,
Basic Channel,
Make Up,
The Walker Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
B.T. Express,
Jacob Miller,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deepchord,
The Human League,
the Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Skaos,
Bush Tetras,
Absolute Body Control,
Drexciya,
Television Personalities,
Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry Gold Smith,
This Heat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter and Kerry,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.