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 Burundi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Roger Hodgson to the grime 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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Throbbing Gristle,
Basic Channel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
LL Cool J,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nils Olav,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Residents,
Adolescents,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tres Demented,
Bill Near,
Absolute Body Control,
The Vogues,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Gabor Szabo,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Duran Duran,
The Evens,
The Moleskins,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-102,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rapeman,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
R.M.O.,
Ultra Naté,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sparks,
Ultravox,
Anthony Braxton,
Q and Not U,
June Days,
Amon Düül II,
John Coltrane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fuzztones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.