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 Cuba and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the jazz 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
MC5,
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
Blossom Toes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Star Department,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Vogues,
Alice Coltrane,
the Association,
Maurizio,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Magma,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yazoo,
Technova,
The Count Five,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aswad,
Quantec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Radio Birdman,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fuzztones,
Boz Scaggs,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
Ornette Coleman,
The Residents,
Alphaville,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.