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 Lithuania and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Glenn Branca to the rock 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Divine Comedy,
Alton Ellis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Khruangbin,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Wally Richardson,
Deadbeat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mojo Men,
Pierre Henry,
Rufus Thomas,
Isaac Hayes,
The Neon Judgement,
B.T. Express,
Vladislav Delay,
Surgeon,
Eurythmics,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Metal Thangz,
Letta Mbulu,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Can,
The Evens,
John Cale,
Adolescents,
Darondo,
Lyres,
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dark Day,
Sonic Youth,
Chris Corsano,
X-102,
Bobby Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doors,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sound Behaviour,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.