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 Congo and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the grunge 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
The Move,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
Masters at Work,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Dawn Penn,
The New Christs,
Y Pants,
Gang of Four,
Fluxion,
Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Ken Boothe,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
The Leaves,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
Eurythmics,
the Normal,
Ultra Naté,
Lyres,
The Saints,
Davy DMX,
B.T. Express,
cv313,
Little Man,
Metal Thangz,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
Nas,
Technova,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Circle Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Dave Gahan,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.