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 Nicaragua and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rock 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Organ,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Blancmange,
Newcleus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Görl,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Wolf Eyes,
Tom Boy,
FM Einheit,
Swell Maps,
Siglo XX,
Kevin Saunderson,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
Bluetip,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Ken Boothe,
Infiniti,
T. Rex,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
Idris Muhammad,
Silicon Teens,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Toasters,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Almond,
The Kinks,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Leonard Cohen,
Tres Demented,
The Real Kids,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.