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 Singapore and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Glenn Branca to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Move,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minny Pops,
Skriet,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Style,
Pantaleimon,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Young Rascals,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alphaville,
Sonny Sharrock,
Y Pants,
X-102,
Outsiders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yellowson,
Liliput,
Babytalk,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Max Romeo,
Q65,
The United States of America,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Beau Brummels,
Funkadelic,
ABBA,
Albert Ayler,
Organ,
Intrusion,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
the Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Blancmange,
Barrington Levy,
Khruangbin,
The Smoke,
Suicide,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.