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 Costa Rica and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the crunk 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Moss Icon,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alison Limerick,
Unrelated Segments,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
The Motions,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Almond,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dennis Brown,
Outsiders,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun City Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Visage,
The Mojo Men,
Crime,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Evens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marine Girls,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Masters at Work,
Bill Near,
U.S. Maple,
Subhumans,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reagan Youth,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
Skarface,
Kool Moe Dee,
MDC,
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
Malaria!,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Trumans Water,
Sound Behaviour,
The Kinks,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.