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 Japan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
The Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Todd Terry,
DNA,
Depeche Mode,
Silicon Teens,
Suicide,
Toni Rubio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronnie Foster,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
Television,
Marcia Griffiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Susan Cadogan,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
Pole,
Icehouse,
The Smoke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Make Up,
Scratch Acid,
D'Angelo,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
The Standells,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
The Dirtbombs,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Gong,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
The Gap Band,
Tommy Roe,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Deakin,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lakeside,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.