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 Taiwan and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Jeff Mills to the grunge 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Sound Behaviour,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
The Fuzztones,
Inner City,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Television Personalities,
Sonic Youth,
Technova,
Boredoms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Enemy,
Fat Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
Scratch Acid,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Unrelated Segments,
Talk Talk,
KRS-One,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
Little Man,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare,
David McCallum,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
The American Breed,
Connie Case,
Alton Ellis,
Tomorrow,
a-ha,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.