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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thee Headcoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
Gabor Szabo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
Joey Negro,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deakin,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
Schoolly D,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Graham Central Station,
Pantaleimon,
CMW,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronnie Foster,
Josef K,
Crispy Ambulance,
Isaac Hayes,
Bush Tetras,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dual Sessions,
The Cramps,
Metal Thangz,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
Visage,
Subhumans,
Bobby Womack,
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mr. Review,
Babytalk,
Lakeside,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Reagan Youth,
Minor Threat,
Todd Rundgren,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Massinfluence,
Juan Atkins,
The Associates,
Grauzone,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
The Vogues,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.