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 Germany and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 R.M.O. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Can,
Marine Girls,
The Cure,
Black Moon,
Patti Smith,
Subhumans,
Moebius,
Kaleidoscope,
Pussy Galore,
AZ,
The Move,
Grauzone,
Robert Görl,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
10cc,
The Moody Blues,
Sun City Girls,
Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moleskins,
The Grass Roots,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Essential Logic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Oneida,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
PIL,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bluetip,
the Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oblivians,
Bang On A Can,
The Human League,
Gastr Del Sol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roxette,
Guru Guru,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Animal Collective,
Radiohead,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
Gichy Dan,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.