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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro 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 Rapeman to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry's Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
Los Fastidios,
Funky Four + One,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus,
The Smoke,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Hood,
Ice-T,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
The Human League,
The Velvet Underground,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
Quantec,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Howard Jones,
Man Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fugs,
DJ Sneak,
A Certain Ratio,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
The Birthday Party,
The Count Five,
Colin Newman,
Maleditus Sound,
Panda Bear,
Bush Tetras,
Faraquet,
Depeche Mode,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
Urselle,
Amon Düül II,
Monolake,
Technova,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.