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 Samoa and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Lyres to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalann,
Cluster,
A Certain Ratio,
Pulsallama,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
June of 44,
Urselle,
Royal Trux,
Maurizio,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
The Dave Clark Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Peter & Gordon,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Alphaville,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
U.S. Maple,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thompson Twins,
The American Breed,
Quando Quango,
Circle Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABC,
Chris Corsano,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
Second Layer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Moon,
Masters at Work,
Carl Craig,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
The Knickerbockers,
Spoonie Gee,
Prince Buster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Surgeon,
Scan 7,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.