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 Iran and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Magazine to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn,
Judy Mowatt,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
James White and The Blacks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June Days,
David Axelrod,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed,
Fear,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Ludus,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
Joyce Sims,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
Laurel Aitken,
The Leaves,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
Blake Baxter,
The Dirtbombs,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
The Birthday Party,
Cameo,
Second Layer,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mad Mike,
The Litter,
Tres Demented,
Qualms,
Rod Modell,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ice-T,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.