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 Macedonia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Seeds to the rock 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Rufus Thomas,
La Düsseldorf,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
Jacob Miller,
One Last Wish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalann,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Wells,
Dual Sessions,
Hardrive,
Monks,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Maleditus Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Fugazi,
ABC,
Blossom Toes,
KRS-One,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
Kas Product,
T. Rex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donald Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Pagans,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
10cc,
Quando Quango,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
Sparks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Y Pants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Nas,
Los Fastidios,
The Motions,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.