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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
Yaz,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Anakelly,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swell Maps,
Blancmange,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
Malaria!,
Mission of Burma,
Sight & Sound,
Cybotron,
The Knickerbockers,
cv313,
Stiv Bators,
Alphaville,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Ice-T,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Sugar Minott,
8 Eyed Spy,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mojo Men,
Grey Daturas,
Vladislav Delay,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Mark Hollis,
Wire,
Robert Görl,
Pierre Henry,
Cal Tjader,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
One Last Wish,
Aswad,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Near,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Make Up,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.