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 Panama and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Faust,
Basic Channel,
The Toasters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minutemen,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Jawbox,
Jacob Miller,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Khruangbin,
Radiohead,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Circle Jerks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David Bowie,
Dual Sessions,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Warren Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
The Techniques,
Donny Hathaway,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Axelrod,
Easy Going,
Organ,
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Amazonics,
Pole,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Gong,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas,
Sugar Minott,
Visage,
Monolake,
The Moleskins,
Eve St. Jones,
The American Breed,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.