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 Indonesia and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Monochrome Set to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Icehouse,
Groovy Waters,
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Mantronix,
Lalann,
Matthew Bourne,
Brick,
The Beau Brummels,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blake Baxter,
Thompson Twins,
Inner City,
Subhumans,
The Real Kids,
Hardrive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moebius,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brand Nubian,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott Heron,
Index,
Crime,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Supertramp,
The Monochrome Set,
Sugar Minott,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter and Kerry,
Erasure,
Echospace,
Carl Craig,
Fluxion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Motorama,
The Gun Club,
Skaos,
Guru Guru,
Dennis Brown,
Terry Callier,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Christie,
Brass Construction,
Radio Birdman,
Radiohead,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
John Lydon,
Yaz,
Gichy Dan,
Mars,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.