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 Taiwan and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Black Dice to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Oneida,
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neil Young,
The Electric Prunes,
Faraquet,
E-Dancer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Motions,
Eden Ahbez,
The Standells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Minor Threat,
Anthony Braxton,
Das Ding,
Toni Rubio,
Babytalk,
Brothers Johnson,
The Last Poets,
Wire,
Neu!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lakeside,
Mission of Burma,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Icehouse,
The Modern Lovers,
Barbara Tucker,
Alphaville,
Lucky Dragons,
Dorothy Ashby,
Delon & Dalcan,
Matthew Bourne,
John Holt,
Spoonie Gee,
Barrington Levy,
Clear Light,
Yazoo,
Radiohead,
The Zeros,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Byrd,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.