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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Khruangbin to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
H. Thieme,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Amazonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Blues Magoos,
Blossom Toes,
Neu!,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Goldenarms,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
cv313,
Ponytail,
New Order,
Ultravox,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Infiniti,
Scratch Acid,
Zapp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Golliwogs,
The United States of America,
Graham Central Station,
Dave Gahan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Young Rascals,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
Ludus,
Joey Negro,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agitation Free,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
John Holt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grauzone,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.