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 Lebanon and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Chris Corsano to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Mad Mike,
Television,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
Sixth Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lower 48,
Q and Not U,
Scrapy,
Goldenarms,
Pylon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
Sex Pistols,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord,
Half Japanese,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Subhumans,
Massinfluence,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
Mandrill,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Steve Hackett,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
the Normal,
Bush Tetras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gladiators,
Bauhaus,
the Association,
Morten Harket,
Neil Young,
Dark Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erykah Badu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minutemen,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.