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 Jordan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
the Bar-Kays,
Blossom Toes,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Dave Gahan,
T. Rex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun Ra,
the Human League,
Fat Boys,
Black Sheep,
Interpol,
Barry Ungar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mantronix,
Chris & Cosey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Pere Ubu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Remains,
Prince Buster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
FM Einheit,
Brothers Johnson,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
AZ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jacques Brel,
Josef K,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hot Snakes,
Hardrive,
Eddi Front,
Joe Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June of 44,
Smog,
Rites of Spring,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.