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 Israel and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Bronski Beat,
Royal Trux,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Terry,
Quadrant,
Monolake,
Yaz,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
kango's stein massive,
The Gladiators,
Black Flag,
Connie Case,
Pantytec,
Whodini,
ABBA,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Au Pairs,
Roxy Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Moon,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
The Martian,
X-102,
MDC,
Lungfish,
Gang Green,
The Smiths,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispy Ambulance,
B.T. Express,
Erasure,
Altered Images,
The Doobie Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Symarip,
Junior Murvin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Rundgren,
The Knickerbockers,
Liliput,
Los Fastidios,
Mars,
EPMD,
The Neon Judgement,
Agent Orange,
Tears for Fears,
Wally Richardson,
Brass Construction,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.