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 Marshall Islands and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rock 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eve St. Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Deepchord,
Laurel Aitken,
kango's stein massive,
10cc,
Duran Duran,
Shuggie Otis,
Arab on Radar,
Scan 7,
Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Outsiders,
Blancmange,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mark Hollis,
Howard Jones,
Boredoms,
Parry Music,
Junior Murvin,
Byron Stingily,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
the Fania All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faust,
The Stooges,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Cecil Taylor,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Trumans Water,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Chrome,
Wire,
Ornette Coleman,
Slave,
Lyres,
Severed Heads,
Barbara Tucker,
Kenny Larkin,
New York Dolls,
Max Romeo,
Agitation Free,
Massinfluence,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pere Ubu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.