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 Rwanda and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare 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 Bizarre Inc. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Style,
Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
Wally Richardson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Leaves,
Japan,
The United States of America,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mission of Burma,
Judy Mowatt,
The Victims,
Gabor Szabo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Monolake,
The Trojans,
the Sonics,
The Raincoats,
Ultravox,
ABC,
The Real Kids,
Severed Heads,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains,
48th St. Collective,
Malaria!,
Pantytec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Popol Vuh,
The Saints,
John Cale,
Jacob Miller,
Wasted Youth,
DNA,
Ice-T,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Groovy Waters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Slave,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Walker Brothers,
Rapeman,
Neil Young,
Moss Icon,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.