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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lyres,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiohead,
Aaron Thompson,
Television Personalities,
Schoolly D,
a-ha,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Mills,
Depeche Mode,
The Real Kids,
Gang Green,
DJ Sneak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Harry Pussy,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABC,
Wasted Youth,
Ponytail,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Qualms,
Little Man,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echospace,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Banda Bassotti,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Icehouse,
Brick,
Nas,
Suburban Knight,
DNA,
Dual Sessions,
the Sonics,
Cameo,
Freddie Wadling,
Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Hoover,
The Litter,
The Victims,
The Buckinghams,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.