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 Kuwait and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cluster to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Star Department,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Pantytec,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
the Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
Half Japanese,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Agitation Free,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Hood,
Colin Newman,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Leonard Cohen,
Skaos,
Blake Baxter,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Almond,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Negative Approach,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Simply Red,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
Rosa Yemen,
Sugar Minott,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
Rod Modell,
Bob Dylan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Erykah Badu,
U.S. Maple,
Section 25,
Cymande,
Swans,
Scientists,
Gang of Four,
Franke,
Crash Course in Science,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.