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 Niger and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 The Index to the punk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Desert Stars,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Red Krayola,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Reuben Wilson,
Skriet,
Das Ding,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warren Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Qualms,
Steve Hackett,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Accadde A,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roy Ayers,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
Soul II Soul,
Joensuu 1685,
The Leaves,
David Axelrod,
Vladislav Delay,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Wells,
Motorama,
The Cure,
Swans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alphaville,
June of 44,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Darondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dead Boys,
Gang Green,
Jandek,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aural Exciters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.