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 Finland and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Stiv Bators to the dance 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
The Searchers,
Stereo Dub,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joyce Sims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Green,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
The Count Five,
Tres Demented,
The Zeros,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül II,
Lyres,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sugar Minott,
Marmalade,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
Danielle Patucci,
X-Ray Spex,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scion,
Grey Daturas,
the Germs,
Brand Nubian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pagans,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mo-Dettes,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Agent Orange,
Ice-T,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
Dave Gahan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills,
Deepchord,
Ten City,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonic Youth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Sheep,
Skaos,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.