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 Egypt and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 American Breed to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Brass Construction,
Mad Mike,
The Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Khruangbin,
Chris & Cosey,
Steve Hackett,
Skarface,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
Eric Copeland,
Main Source,
Monks,
Rod Modell,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
John Holt,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Rotary Connection,
Joensuu 1685,
China Crisis,
PIL,
Neil Young,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mark Hollis,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
Yellowson,
Procol Harum,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed,
Porter Ricks,
Peter and Kerry,
Duran Duran,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Urselle,
Basic Channel,
Pere Ubu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Robert Wyatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Sister Nancy,
Suicide,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.