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 Tuvalu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The New Christs to the rap 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
Half Japanese,
Rufus Thomas,
Moebius,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Gong,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Almond,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Cale,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
Eli Mardock,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
The Doors,
10cc,
Warsaw,
Sister Nancy,
Newcleus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Marvin Gaye,
Deakin,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Associates,
The Shadows of Knight,
Supertramp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
Dark Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
Ten City,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sugar Minott,
Graham Central Station,
Peter & Gordon,
The Index,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Niagra,
The Selecter,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
Smog,
Albert Ayler,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.