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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Glambeats Corp. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Pus,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
E-Dancer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Skaos,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
Grey Daturas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
Minny Pops,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Black Dice,
Warren Ellis,
Newcleus,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Parry Music,
Reagan Youth,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
Television Personalities,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Joyce Sims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Das Ding,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Fugazi,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shuggie Otis,
Funkadelic,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Minnie Riperton,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
The Knickerbockers,
the Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.