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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Popol Vuh to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Ten City,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Chris & Cosey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Howard Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Sherman,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Piero Umiliani,
Zero Boys,
Altered Images,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
New York Dolls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-101,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echospace,
Skarface,
the Germs,
Minor Threat,
The Vogues,
The Associates,
The Modern Lovers,
Section 25,
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Basic Channel,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.