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 Belize and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the grunge 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fluxion,
The Motions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pulsallama,
Sun City Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Sight & Sound,
The Slackers,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Clear Light,
Funkadelic,
Bang On A Can,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cal Tjader,
Lungfish,
Fat Boys,
Ossler,
Theoretical Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
Icehouse,
Ultravox,
Al Stewart,
The Gories,
Arab on Radar,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Pole,
Zapp,
Audionom,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
Q and Not U,
Moss Icon,
Tres Demented,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Roxette,
The Saints,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
the Soft Cell,
Brick,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.