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 Mauritius and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Pet Shop Boys to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ituana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Faraquet,
Marine Girls,
Inner City,
Unwound,
Gong,
Max Romeo,
New Order,
X-101,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sound,
The Five Americans,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
Pylon,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zero Boys,
Alton Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Danielle Patucci,
The Tremeloes,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Das Ding,
the Germs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Symarip,
10cc,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Liliput,
Eric Copeland,
Scan 7,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
The Electric Prunes,
Bill Near,
Tim Buckley,
Godley & Creme,
Tubeway Army,
Livin' Joy,
Procol Harum,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.