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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cybotron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Mad Mike,
Kurtis Blow,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
Franke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ossler,
Harry Pussy,
David McCallum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arthur Verocai,
Liliput,
Rekid,
Black Bananas,
Marmalade,
B.T. Express,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joyce Sims,
Loose Ends,
Nick Fraelich,
Scott Walker,
The Leaves,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter & Gordon,
Pussy Galore,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pantytec,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
The Barracudas,
Sun Ra,
Bill Near,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Minutemen,
Chrome,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Drexciya,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
The Misunderstood,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.