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 Sudan and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Essential Logic to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dead Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Fugazi,
Eli Mardock,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
Faust,
10cc,
Clear Light,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
China Crisis,
Freddie Wadling,
Wire,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
The Gories,
The J.B.'s,
Suburban Knight,
Max Romeo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
AZ,
Pantytec,
Animal Collective,
Zapp,
The Cure,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Sherman,
Das Ding,
Absolute Body Control,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anakelly,
Alphaville,
In Retrospect,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Smooth,
Joe Finger,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kevin Saunderson,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fuzztones,
Ultravox,
The Names,
Glenn Branca,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.