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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stetsasonic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
The Dirtbombs,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Grass Roots,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Electric Prunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Nico,
Eurythmics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Little Man,
Warsaw,
Lungfish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Starr,
Soulsonic Force,
Pylon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Associates,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Warren Ellis,
Groovy Waters,
Man Parrish,
World's Most,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Young Marble Giants,
Pole,
Blancmange,
Swell Maps,
The Star Department,
Mr. Review,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cameo,
The Smiths,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.