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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Barracudas to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Slick Rick,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Arab on Radar,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
Excepter,
Icehouse,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cymande,
Carl Craig,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rod Modell,
Royal Trux,
Swans,
The Dead C,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joyce Sims,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
The Buckinghams,
Stereo Dub,
Max Romeo,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cowsills,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eddi Front,
Chrome,
Sister Nancy,
Heaven 17,
Spandau Ballet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxette,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mr. Review,
MC5,
Nils Olav,
Alton Ellis,
Lungfish,
Black Bananas,
MDC,
Scientists,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.