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 Indonesia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Wasted Youth to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Organ,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Shoche,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Scott Walker,
Stiv Bators,
Don Cherry,
Suburban Knight,
The Motions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Vogues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
The Fuzztones,
Black Moon,
Harmonia,
Cymande,
Ponytail,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
David Axelrod,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Certain Ratio,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Half Japanese,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Suicide,
Fat Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Barracudas,
ABBA,
L. Decosne,
Magazine,
Royal Trux,
the Soft Cell,
Symarip,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.