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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Interpol,
Roxette,
Deepchord,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Agitation Free,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
10cc,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Soft Cell,
Erasure,
B.T. Express,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sight & Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Warren Ellis,
The Pop Group,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sex Pistols,
The Gap Band,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
L. Decosne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Darondo,
Sällskapet,
X-101,
a-ha,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Brick,
David Axelrod,
Supertramp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
Ronan,
Morten Harket,
The Zeros,
Joe Smooth,
Nas,
U.S. Maple,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flipper,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Sneak,
Skaos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Urselle,
The Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.