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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Unwound,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw,
Swell Maps,
The Birthday Party,
Pantytec,
Bauhaus,
Roxy Music,
LL Cool J,
Sight & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Outsiders,
FM Einheit,
The Velvet Underground,
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Enemy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kayak,
Camberwell Now,
Gong,
Deakin,
Trumans Water,
CMW,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jesper Dahlback,
Saccharine Trust,
the Normal,
In Retrospect,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scientists,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Tears for Fears,
Zapp,
Silicon Teens,
Chris & Cosey,
June of 44,
The Victims,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Roger Hodgson,
Ornette Coleman,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Royal Trux,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.