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 Honduras and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tom Boy to the punk 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Oneida,
Crime,
Cluster,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Danielle Patucci,
Negative Approach,
Scion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
Pulsallama,
The Offenders,
Franke,
Avey Tare,
Kayak,
Pussy Galore,
Junior Murvin,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
Stiv Bators,
Hot Snakes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nico,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pretty Things,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Glenn Branca,
John Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
Henry Cow,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Roxette,
Morten Harket,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Hasil Adkins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.