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 Malta and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker to the funk 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Brand Nubian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Section 25,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Faraquet,
Jerry's Kids,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Unrelated Segments,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Görl,
Simply Red,
Vainqueur,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Toni Rubio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Leonard Cohen,
The Real Kids,
DJ Style,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
T. Rex,
The Birthday Party,
Anthony Braxton,
Erasure,
Sonic Youth,
The Smoke,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
Ossler,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Crash Course in Science,
The Modern Lovers,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Motions,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Audionom,
K-Klass,
Dave Gahan,
The Black Dice,
F. McDonald,
10cc,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Human League,
Reuben Wilson,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.