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 Sri Lanka and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Al Stewart to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Velvet Underground,
Pierre Henry,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
Funkadelic,
The Slits,
Boredoms,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
The Searchers,
Gang Starr,
Supertramp,
Neil Young,
Howard Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Iggy Pop,
Malaria!,
Swans,
The Busters,
Main Source,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
X-101,
The Monochrome Set,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Organ,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
Goldenarms,
Qualms,
Anthony Braxton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Monks,
Minor Threat,
James White and The Blacks,
Hasil Adkins,
Patti Smith,
Das Ding,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
AZ,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Normal,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Prince Buster,
The Vogues,
The Beau Brummels,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Laurel Aitken,
Freddie Wadling,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.