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 Pakistan and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 R.M.O. to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Tubeway Army,
Lalo Schifrin,
cv313,
Rapeman,
The Five Americans,
Alphaville,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Negative Approach,
Camouflage,
Sight & Sound,
The Names,
Isaac Hayes,
Ken Boothe,
Supertramp,
Skarface,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Marvin Gaye,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül,
Qualms,
Unwound,
KRS-One,
The Searchers,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Funky Four + One,
Fatback Band,
Sun Ra,
Archie Shepp,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Television,
Neil Young,
ABBA,
Echospace,
Soul II Soul,
Can,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
Michelle Simonal,
Boredoms,
FM Einheit,
Soft Machine,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.