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 Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 David Bowie 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 Harmonia to the techno 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick May,
Can,
Steve Hackett,
Bronski Beat,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
Eddi Front,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
48th St. Collective,
Sun City Girls,
Warsaw,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scion,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Beau Brummels,
Pulsallama,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Roy Ayers,
Motorama,
Marmalade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radio Birdman,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Wells,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scratch Acid,
Aural Exciters,
Joyce Sims,
Gong,
Supertramp,
Crispy Ambulance,
Glambeats Corp.,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Swell Maps,
Davy DMX,
Procol Harum,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.