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 San Marino and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Grey Daturas to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Amon Düül II,
Black Bananas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Desert Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
Wings,
Slave,
Godley & Creme,
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
DJ Style,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
Franke,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Lakeside,
the Swans,
Newcleus,
Loose Ends,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Busters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fugs,
Smog,
The Techniques,
Chrome,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
Simply Red,
Nico,
Shuggie Otis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liliput,
Banda Bassotti,
Little Man,
KRS-One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Accadde A,
Neil Young,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
The Angels of Light,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.