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 Antigua and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trumans Water to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Scott Walker,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
ABC,
Faraquet,
Sarah Menescal,
The Golliwogs,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Television Personalities,
The Modern Lovers,
Sixth Finger,
Visage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camouflage,
Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
The Blackbyrds,
The Grass Roots,
Blake Baxter,
Tears for Fears,
Technova,
Lucky Dragons,
Faust,
The Monks,
The Gories,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
Fela Kuti,
Make Up,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythm & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
the Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.