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 Palau and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Suicide 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 J.B.'s,
Jawbox,
AZ,
Arab on Radar,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
10cc,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
The Divine Comedy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
Camouflage,
The Associates,
James White and The Blacks,
Roger Hodgson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
B.T. Express,
Marmalade,
Alison Limerick,
The United States of America,
Man Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cal Tjader,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Popol Vuh,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dawn Penn,
Basic Channel,
Vladislav Delay,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delta 5,
Byron Stingily,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.