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 Uganda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Throbbing Gristle 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Fad Gadget,
E-Dancer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Bar-Kays,
Arab on Radar,
Eden Ahbez,
John Holt,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Leaves,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Green,
The Gap Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Walker Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Urselle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Howard Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
Goldenarms,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Steve Hackett,
Ronan,
Gichy Dan,
10cc,
The Tremeloes,
Monolake,
the Swans,
Cheater Slicks,
Rotary Connection,
Lower 48,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cowsills,
EPMD,
the Slits,
Radio Birdman,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brothers Johnson,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.