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 Zimbabwe and from Lagos.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Liliput to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Funky Four + One,
Warren Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Rapeman,
Alphaville,
Roxette,
Excepter,
Visage,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
These Immortal Souls,
Fat Boys,
OOIOO,
Clear Light,
Minnie Riperton,
Nik Kershaw,
Crispian St. Peters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
Flipper,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young,
Ornette Coleman,
Rosa Yemen,
Bluetip,
Dead Boys,
The Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mo-Dettes,
Altered Images,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rotary Connection,
Severed Heads,
Todd Terry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Donald Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Associates,
Reagan Youth,
Patti Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Chrome,
The Selecter,
Albert Ayler,
Japan,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.