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 Japan and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Half Japanese to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Livin' Joy,
Au Pairs,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Talk Talk,
The Golliwogs,
Michelle Simonal,
Tres Demented,
Excepter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Loose Ends,
Y Pants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Zapp,
The Gories,
Supertramp,
Inner City,
Liliput,
the Normal,
Sugar Minott,
The Litter,
Little Man,
The Cure,
Cybotron,
Thee Headcoats,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dead C,
Deadbeat,
The Count Five,
Mandrill,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
Alphaville,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Albert Ayler,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Misunderstood,
The Red Krayola,
Magma,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Slave,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
The Busters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.