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 Netherlands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sight & Sound to the disco 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Reuben Wilson,
Blossom Toes,
Inner City,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronan,
The Buckinghams,
Maurizio,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
Groovy Waters,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Christie,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Style,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland,
Eddi Front,
the Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sister Nancy,
The Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
Danielle Patucci,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Mills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scratch Acid,
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
John Lydon,
Nick Fraelich,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arcadia,
Joe Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
The Mojo Men,
Toni Rubio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Max Romeo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
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.