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 St Lucia and from New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mary Jane Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
Pylon,
The Durutti Column,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Residents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
10cc,
Von Mondo,
Drexciya,
Robert Görl,
Joy Division,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Au Pairs,
Siglo XX,
Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Vainqueur,
Andrew Hill,
Vladislav Delay,
The Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott Heron,
Y Pants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scion,
Young Marble Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sister Nancy,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
The Smoke,
David McCallum,
Surgeon,
Bootsy Collins,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
The Star Department,
Tubeway Army,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Smog,
Bob Dylan,
Ossler,
The Count Five,
Jawbox,
Sun City Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Jacques Brel,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.