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 El Salvador and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Average White Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Almond,
Bauhaus,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
Scratch Acid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soft Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roy Ayers,
Symarip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Qualms,
Arcadia,
Monks,
Thompson Twins,
the Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
The Gladiators,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minor Threat,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Starr,
Lakeside,
Ultravox,
DJ Style,
Black Flag,
Agitation Free,
Moss Icon,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick May,
JFA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donald Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Nirvana,
The Gories,
Yusef Lateef,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chrome,
The Walker Brothers,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.