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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Letta Mbulu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Near,
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
Section 25,
Sugar Minott,
ABBA,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
The Walker Brothers,
Ken Boothe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultravox,
The Skatalites,
Jeru the Damaja,
Von Mondo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Whodini,
Kayak,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
Adolescents,
E-Dancer,
DNA,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Kurtis Blow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Technova,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
8 Eyed Spy,
World's Most,
Susan Cadogan,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tomorrow,
Neil Young,
Howard Jones,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Max Romeo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.