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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nico,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radio Birdman,
The Invisible,
The Victims,
Easy Going,
Lindisfarne,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scion,
Circle Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Halsall,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Divine Comedy,
Deepchord,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dawn Penn,
Stetsasonic,
Rekid,
Arcadia,
The Sonics,
Darondo,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
Kayak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Bananas,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
David McCallum,
R.M.O.,
Lou Christie,
Josef K,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pop Group,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
Lakeside,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Panda Bear,
Banda Bassotti,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry's Kids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.