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 Greece and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Swans to the electroclash 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Whodini,
Gong,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang of Four,
The Music Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronnie Foster,
Drexciya,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Sneak,
Negative Approach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Evens,
Eli Mardock,
Scratch Acid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
Fear,
Soul II Soul,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
EPMD,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
The Gun Club,
Accadde A,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
Carl Craig,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
Metal Thangz,
Intrusion,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Buckinghams,
Brand Nubian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moleskins,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare,
Stetsasonic,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacob Miller,
Soulsonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.