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 Mali and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Happenings to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ 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 linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Derrick May,
Matthew Bourne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Smooth,
ABBA,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minnie Riperton,
In Retrospect,
Royal Trux,
Marc Almond,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ponytail,
The Fugs,
Sandy B,
Warsaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pussy Galore,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marvin Gaye,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
Zero Boys,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
The Raincoats,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
AZ,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sound Behaviour,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tom Boy,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
Moss Icon,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Boogie Down Productions,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Starr,
The Associates,
Joy Division,
DNA,
The Smoke,
Dawn Penn,
Sex Pistols,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Womack,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.