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 Kyrgyzstan and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Iggy Pop to the techno 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang On A Can,
The Count Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Soft Cell,
Amon Düül,
Depeche Mode,
Banda Bassotti,
PIL,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
Cameo,
Spoonie Gee,
Tommy Roe,
Fugazi,
Juan Atkins,
Public Enemy,
The Cowsills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Graham Central Station,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Thee Headcoats,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
Saccharine Trust,
the Association,
Derrick May,
Japan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Thompson Twins,
Organ,
Outsiders,
Stetsasonic,
LL Cool J,
Underground Resistance,
Danielle Patucci,
The Red Krayola,
Iggy Pop,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.