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 Rwanda and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Sixth Finger to the disco 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
DJ Sneak,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Jacques Brel,
Desert Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Moon,
UT,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Oblivians,
Sällskapet,
Chris Corsano,
Albert Ayler,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonic Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Second Layer,
Tears for Fears,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Junior Murvin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Tomorrow,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Minutemen,
U.S. Maple,
Pylon,
Jeff Mills,
Michelle Simonal,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Finger,
Ponytail,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kas Product,
Alton Ellis,
A Certain Ratio,
Scientists,
Matthew Bourne,
T. Rex,
The Skatalites,
Smog,
The Associates,
The Residents,
Bill Near,
The Velvet Underground,
Livin' Joy,
Joy Division,
Hasil Adkins,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.