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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Techniques 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter & Gordon,
The Blackbyrds,
Skaos,
Monks,
Cluster,
Terry Callier,
Mad Mike,
Althea and Donna,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
La Düsseldorf,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Womack,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MC5,
Derrick Morgan,
The Remains,
the Normal,
Whodini,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Swans,
the Human League,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
Cal Tjader,
The Names,
The American Breed,
Ultra Naté,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Magazine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erykah Badu,
Prince Buster,
the Association,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Dual Sessions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Wells,
The Black Dice,
Maurizio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABC,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Pantytec,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.