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 Costa Rica and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Blackbyrds to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
Skaos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
K-Klass,
Funky Four + One,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Rufus Thomas,
Gichy Dan,
Susan Cadogan,
Marshall Jefferson,
a-ha,
The Mojo Men,
The Cure,
Charles Mingus,
Althea and Donna,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Mills,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultravox,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eli Mardock,
Todd Terry,
Bauhaus,
Rosa Yemen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
R.M.O.,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
Spandau Ballet,
Agitation Free,
Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
The Move,
Deadbeat,
The Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Derrick May,
Chris Corsano,
Eurythmics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tears for Fears,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.