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 Poland and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang of Four to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Severed Heads,
Eli Mardock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Delta 5,
Bluetip,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Kayak,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rapeman,
Prince Buster,
Blake Baxter,
Pierre Henry,
Quadrant,
June of 44,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tres Demented,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Martian,
Niagra,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gap Band,
The Smiths,
Todd Terry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
CMW,
Radiohead,
Von Mondo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slave,
Crash Course in Science,
Audionom,
Black Bananas,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Motions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Liliput,
DNA,
Quando Quango,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.