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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
The Monochrome Set,
The Music Machine,
Amon Düül II,
K-Klass,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Chris & Cosey,
June of 44,
Pagans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Lydon,
MC5,
Lakeside,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Niagra,
AZ,
Funky Four + One,
Public Enemy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Reagan Youth,
The Real Kids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Whodini,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Wells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maleditus Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Joensuu 1685,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultra Naté,
Piero Umiliani,
In Retrospect,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mantronix,
Janne Schatter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.