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 Cameroon and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Donald Fagen 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 Black Pus 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
Deakin,
Fatback Band,
Marine Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Oneida,
Pantaleimon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Excepter,
Fad Gadget,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soft Machine,
Yellowson,
Y Pants,
New Order,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minnie Riperton,
Simply Red,
Make Up,
Bauhaus,
Kayak,
Brothers Johnson,
Michelle Simonal,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
Radiohead,
Robert Hood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lalann,
Delta 5,
Sixth Finger,
Franke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Nico,
The Modern Lovers,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Anthony Braxton,
Leonard Cohen,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Happenings,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.