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 Vanuatu and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 8 Eyed Spy to the jazz 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Albert Ayler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rakim,
The Mummies,
Shuggie Otis,
Marmalade,
The Martian,
Buzzcocks,
The Searchers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
48th St. Collective,
Bang On A Can,
Kas Product,
Fat Boys,
Guru Guru,
Rites of Spring,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
The Durutti Column,
Lalann,
New Order,
Connie Case,
Country Teasers,
The Moleskins,
Ice-T,
This Heat,
Ultra Naté,
Ultravox,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
Aloha Tigers,
Adolescents,
Second Layer,
The Zeros,
Laurel Aitken,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Suicide,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Alice Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Busters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Terry Callier,
John Foxx,
Supertramp,
T.S.O.L.,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.