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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harmonia to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dark Day,
The Knickerbockers,
Essential Logic,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
H. Thieme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Smog,
Roy Ayers,
Nirvana,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
Judy Mowatt,
Au Pairs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Raincoats,
Quantec,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Colin Newman,
Yazoo,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Black Bananas,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Searchers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Lydon,
Average White Band,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Swans,
Gong,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
John Holt,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Godley & Creme,
a-ha,
Moby Grape,
Lakeside,
Shoche,
Neu!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter and Kerry,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.