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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bronski Beat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
Curtis Mayfield,
D'Angelo,
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
China Crisis,
Desert Stars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
The New Christs,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Wake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül II,
The Raincoats,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Audionom,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maleditus Sound,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moleskins,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Ossler,
Judy Mowatt,
June Days,
Ultra Naté,
Lalann,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joensuu 1685,
The Stooges,
The Golliwogs,
Brass Construction,
Stetsasonic,
the Human League,
Dead Boys,
The Evens,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Popol Vuh,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.