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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Los Fastidios 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Whodini,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
Talk Talk,
Spandau Ballet,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Eli Mardock,
The Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quantec,
Jacques Brel,
Y Pants,
The Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Wally Richardson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
UT,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Residents,
Urselle,
Q65,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alice Coltrane,
Neu!,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Warsaw,
Grey Daturas,
JFA,
Man Parrish,
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swell Maps,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crime,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Skatalites,
The Offenders,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.