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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mantronix to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Radio Birdman,
The Five Americans,
Young Marble Giants,
The Index,
The Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
DNA,
R.M.O.,
Wasted Youth,
The Grass Roots,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Anakelly,
The Durutti Column,
La Düsseldorf,
Pulsallama,
Wolf Eyes,
The American Breed,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
The Mojo Men,
The Fortunes,
The Zeros,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Technova,
Can,
Patti Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moby Grape,
Jacques Brel,
Masters at Work,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Ronan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
Silicon Teens,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeff Lynne,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Slits,
Warsaw,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
Pantaleimon,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
The Monochrome Set,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Fugazi,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q and Not U,
David McCallum,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.