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 Afghanistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 a-ha to the grime 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed,
Todd Rundgren,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
Section 25,
Half Japanese,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
The Sound,
Skaos,
The Saints,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Y Pants,
Yellowson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Thompson Twins,
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
KRS-One,
Monolake,
Liliput,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonny Sharrock,
H. Thieme,
Peter and Kerry,
Slick Rick,
Pylon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Wake,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Style,
Ludus,
Yazoo,
Patti Smith,
Robert Hood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.