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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Adolescents to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Patti Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bronski Beat,
Radio Birdman,
Danielle Patucci,
The Five Americans,
Lungfish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
ABC,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Dave Gahan,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
JFA,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Count Five,
David Axelrod,
Drexciya,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cymande,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
Trumans Water,
the Human League,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
In Retrospect,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Kinks,
Wings,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
Marine Girls,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Morten Harket,
Man Eating Sloth,
Unwound,
Au Pairs,
Neil Young,
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.