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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the electroclash 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Vogues,
Hoover,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Moon,
Lalann,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Boogie Down Productions,
Guru Guru,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alphaville,
the Slits,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
Organ,
The Moleskins,
The Young Rascals,
Babytalk,
Quantec,
Roxette,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Anakelly,
The Sonics,
Soft Machine,
Morten Harket,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Black Dice,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slits,
a-ha,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Swell Maps,
Man Parrish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
Tears for Fears,
Harmonia,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Kayak,
Donald Byrd,
Rekid,
Moebius,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.