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 Yemen and from Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Fall to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Fall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Joe Smooth,
The Zeros,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Bush Tetras,
Althea and Donna,
The Monks,
The Monochrome Set,
Infiniti,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moody Blues,
Suicide,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nils Olav,
Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
The Busters,
Junior Murvin,
Maleditus Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Siglo XX,
Alice Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pussy Galore,
Section 25,
Roxy Music,
Jawbox,
Andrew Hill,
John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
Sister Nancy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Toni Rubio,
The Sonics,
The Doors,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Au Pairs,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.