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 Bulgaria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Jacob Miller to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
the Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
John Lydon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Guru Guru,
Lakeside,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bush Tetras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
Excepter,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays,
The Trojans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fugazi,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alton Ellis,
Amon Düül II,
Mo-Dettes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
Goldenarms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joensuu 1685,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Fraelich,
Whodini,
the Germs,
UT,
Tres Demented,
The Gladiators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vladislav Delay,
New Order,
Cal Tjader,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Smog,
Dual Sessions,
The Invisible,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gregory Isaacs,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
ABC,
Youth Brigade,
Wally Richardson,
Eric Copeland,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.