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 Morocco and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Public Enemy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
The Offenders,
The Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
Robert Görl,
Kenny Larkin,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
Saccharine Trust,
Talk Talk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
kango's stein massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Sherman,
Scrapy,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
Motorama,
Pussy Galore,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
Jeff Mills,
Zero Boys,
Underground Resistance,
Tomorrow,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül II,
K-Klass,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Audionom,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Warren Ellis,
D'Angelo,
Negative Approach,
Amon Düül,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.