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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David McCallum to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
John Cale,
Funky Four + One,
The Standells,
Gastr Del Sol,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell,
kango's stein massive,
Wasted Youth,
EPMD,
Dennis Brown,
The Grass Roots,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Golliwogs,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slick Rick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Agitation Free,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
Yellowson,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
Severed Heads,
Brothers Johnson,
The Moody Blues,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.