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 Malaysia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the disco 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxy Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Lungfish,
Ultravox,
Crime,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Peter & Gordon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alison Limerick,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Offenders,
Wire,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Outsiders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Intrusion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sixth Finger,
Alphaville,
Q and Not U,
The American Breed,
Skarface,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tres Demented,
H. Thieme,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neu!,
The Move,
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
Dorothy Ashby,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harry Pussy,
Eve St. Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
Maurizio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eli Mardock,
Black Flag,
New Age Steppers,
Bronski Beat,
Marine Girls,
The Star Department,
Q65,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.