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 New Zealand and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Human League 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ken Boothe,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiohead,
Black Flag,
Joe Smooth,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Aswad,
The Happenings,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Mark Hollis,
Flash Fearless,
Chris & Cosey,
Soft Cell,
Monks,
H. Thieme,
The Saints,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
The Wake,
The Modern Lovers,
Fluxion,
Bang On A Can,
Warsaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
John Lydon,
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
Connie Case,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bauhaus,
Kurtis Blow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
Interpol,
The Toasters,
Gang Starr,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Organ,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.