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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nico,
Wally Richardson,
Fear,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
Liliput,
Reagan Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Stiv Bators,
the Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Kaleidoscope,
Kenny Larkin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Faraquet,
Donald Byrd,
Quantec,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Negative Approach,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Lindisfarne,
Crooked Eye,
Scott Walker,
Aswad,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
MC5,
Fluxion,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Dawn Penn,
Moebius,
Don Cherry,
Jeff Mills,
Nils Olav,
Davy DMX,
Brothers Johnson,
Kurtis Blow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Josef K,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soulsonic Force,
Make Up,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pole,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.