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 Sierra Leone and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rites of Spring,
Royal Trux,
Negative Approach,
Pylon,
Suicide,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scion,
Mantronix,
Peter & Gordon,
Barbara Tucker,
Archie Shepp,
Oblivians,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
ABBA,
Matthew Bourne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joey Negro,
Pulsallama,
Altered Images,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roger Hodgson,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Simply Red,
Babytalk,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
The Gun Club,
Agitation Free,
The American Breed,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier,
Icehouse,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
Y Pants,
Agent Orange,
Duran Duran,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Don Cherry,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick Morgan,
The Count Five,
The Golliwogs,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gap Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.