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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Juan Atkins to the crunk 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Darondo,
Monolake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Terry,
Moby Grape,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Womack,
Erykah Badu,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter & Gordon,
Unrelated Segments,
Deadbeat,
Crispian St. Peters,
Supertramp,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Byrd,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Stooges,
Saccharine Trust,
Brand Nubian,
Brass Construction,
Yellowson,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sällskapet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Gregory Isaacs,
Easy Going,
Skarface,
Connie Case,
Sparks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Prince Buster,
Stereo Dub,
the Normal,
Ituana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Misunderstood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camouflage,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
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.