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 Laos and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Marc Almond to the grunge 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Foxx,
Sandy B,
Anthony Braxton,
Motorama,
Maurizio,
Barry Ungar,
Thompson Twins,
Scan 7,
New Order,
Ice-T,
Skriet,
Niagra,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mars,
Laurel Aitken,
Organ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
Rod Modell,
China Crisis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Darondo,
Hoover,
FM Einheit,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bauhaus,
Simply Red,
Jawbox,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
T.S.O.L.,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
June of 44,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gichy Dan,
Liliput,
Brand Nubian,
Youth Brigade,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funky Four + One,
Basic Channel,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed,
Masters at Work,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Silicon Teens,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.