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 Turkey and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Barbara Tucker to the grunge 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Black Flag,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Infiniti,
Clear Light,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pylon,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
JFA,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
Fugazi,
PIL,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling,
New York Dolls,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lower 48,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Wings,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
Audionom,
Hashim,
Anthony Braxton,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
The Durutti Column,
Roxette,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Guru Guru,
the Fania All-Stars,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
The Techniques,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat 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.