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 Italy and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
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 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 Easy Going to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
Skarface,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Eden Ahbez,
L. Decosne,
Talk Talk,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
Motorama,
The Moleskins,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Glambeats Corp.,
Niagra,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Velvet Underground,
a-ha,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Wells,
The Knickerbockers,
Cymande,
Minor Threat,
Harry Pussy,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Move,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
Aaron Thompson,
Dennis Brown,
Terrestrial Tones,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
Grey Daturas,
Fad Gadget,
Shuggie Otis,
Massinfluence,
Slave,
Howard Jones,
The Offenders,
The Kinks,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Ituana,
Cal Tjader,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.