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 Pakistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 American Breed to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Kenny Larkin,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
The Stooges,
Black Sheep,
the Swans,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drexciya,
The Tremeloes,
Unrelated Segments,
Technova,
Infiniti,
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dirtbombs,
Lyres,
Chris & Cosey,
Das Ding,
The Martian,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Associates,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Suicide,
the Slits,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Invisible,
Half Japanese,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Duran Duran,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.