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 Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Bush Tetras to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Joey Negro,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fela Kuti,
The Gories,
The Residents,
The Alarm Clocks,
Animal Collective,
Anakelly,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Starr,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
June Days,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Brass Construction,
The Toasters,
the Soft Cell,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
New Order,
Soul Sonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
The Martian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bizarre Inc.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultravox,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.