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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Marvin Gaye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Bill Near,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Christie,
Wasted Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
The Birthday Party,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Deakin,
Ronnie Foster,
Quantec,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang Green,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
MC5,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Urselle,
the Germs,
Joe Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terry Callier,
Eli Mardock,
the Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
PIL,
Ludus,
Jandek,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pop Group,
The Skatalites,
Make Up,
Scientists,
Avey Tare,
U.S. Maple,
The J.B.'s,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fuzztones,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
The Trojans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.