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 Cameroon and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Scott Walker to the rock 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Nick Fraelich,
the Association,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swell Maps,
F. McDonald,
Juan Atkins,
Hasil Adkins,
Fear,
Kerri Chandler,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cure,
Lower 48,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
Accadde A,
The Gladiators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mantronix,
Max Romeo,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
The Sonics,
Sandy B,
Fluxion,
Anakelly,
John Holt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stereo Dub,
Bang On A Can,
The Saints,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Rekid,
Hardrive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Inner City,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
The Busters,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
AZ,
Alison Limerick,
Ohio Players,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David Bowie,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.