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 Morocco and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Prunes,
Porter Ricks,
The Gun Club,
Los Fastidios,
Y Pants,
The Walker Brothers,
Roxette,
F. McDonald,
Public Image Ltd.,
Chris Corsano,
X-101,
Symarip,
The Fire Engines,
X-102,
Swans,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
Popol Vuh,
Lower 48,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
The Black Dice,
Duran Duran,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
Don Cherry,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Cybotron,
Kas Product,
The Divine Comedy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marmalade,
Eric Copeland,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Victims,
the Normal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxy Music,
Barclay James Harvest,
Prince Buster,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
the Slits,
Accadde A,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skriet,
OOIOO,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.