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 Kuwait and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boredoms to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Count Five,
Rod Modell,
Skaos,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Patti Smith,
Parry Music,
KRS-One,
Black Moon,
the Association,
Marmalade,
The Fuzztones,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
The Zeros,
The Standells,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
La Düsseldorf,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
Rotary Connection,
Slick Rick,
Sonic Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Beau Brummels,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mark Hollis,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
cv313,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eddi Front,
Rekid,
The Cowsills,
John Foxx,
Surgeon,
Flipper,
The Cramps,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
The Modern Lovers,
Hardrive,
the Human League,
Lee Hazlewood,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
Tom Boy,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.