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 Zambia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Visage to the rock 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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Khruangbin,
Maurizio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Gabor Szabo,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thompson Twins,
X-Ray Spex,
Fatback Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy Collins,
Camouflage,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Con Funk Shun,
Sam Rivers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mojo Men,
Von Mondo,
The Angels of Light,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
The Five Americans,
Chrome,
Suburban Knight,
Kas Product,
Easy Going,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
The Stooges,
The Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Guru Guru,
Joensuu 1685,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
Lower 48,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Rotary Connection,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.