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 Ethiopia and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Rapeman to the dance 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Zapp,
Underground Resistance,
Glambeats Corp.,
Heaven 17,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Sherman,
Barry Ungar,
Soulsonic Force,
Jawbox,
Joensuu 1685,
World's Most,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gichy Dan,
Matthew Bourne,
Mantronix,
Ronan,
The Fuzztones,
Ohio Players,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
Lyres,
Jacques Brel,
Alton Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
Wings,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Bill Near,
CMW,
Faraquet,
The Move,
Yusef Lateef,
In Retrospect,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerrie Biddell,
T. Rex,
Pantytec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flipper,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Babytalk,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Halsall,
The Golliwogs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dead C,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.