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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Residents to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Names,
John Lydon,
Ultravox,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
Slave,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy Collins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Rosa Yemen,
Minny Pops,
Skriet,
the Slits,
Josef K,
Alton Ellis,
The Techniques,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
Blancmange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Pere Ubu,
Make Up,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sexual Harrassment,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
Public Enemy,
Icehouse,
Skarface,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Zeros,
Intrusion,
Gang of Four,
Gong,
Marshall Jefferson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
MDC,
Albert Ayler,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.