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 El Salvador and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
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 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 The Fall to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Wake,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Age Steppers,
Cluster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Judy Mowatt,
Ice-T,
Sex Pistols,
The Techniques,
F. McDonald,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
Babytalk,
Boz Scaggs,
Grey Daturas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
The Gun Club,
The Misunderstood,
The Cramps,
X-Ray Spex,
Aaron Thompson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moby Grape,
Kayak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Gang Starr,
Panda Bear,
Lalann,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
Eddi Front,
ABC,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Desert Stars,
Procol Harum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Metal Thangz,
Banda Bassotti,
Susan Cadogan,
Maurizio,
Rufus Thomas,
K-Klass,
Crispy Ambulance,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
the Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Nico,
Main Source,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.