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 France 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Ultravox,
Bauhaus,
Brothers Johnson,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Moon,
cv313,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
Alton Ellis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Kinks,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
48th St. Collective,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sixth Finger,
CMW,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Wells,
Rapeman,
Animal Collective,
Khruangbin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Q65,
Pantytec,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
Half Japanese,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Godley & Creme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Japan,
Tommy Roe,
The Cramps,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.