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 Thailand and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Nirvana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Henry Cow,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eden Ahbez,
Can,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
Sandy B,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Talk Talk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
The Velvet Underground,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
Brothers Johnson,
Fluxion,
Section 25,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nick Fraelich,
X-Ray Spex,
Khruangbin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerri Chandler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Skatalites,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Swans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
The Barracudas,
Piero Umiliani,
Steve Hackett,
The Moody Blues,
Idris Muhammad,
ABBA,
Scratch Acid,
Scan 7,
Magma,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.