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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bologna.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tommy Roe to the jazz 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers 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?
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Country Teasers,
Simply Red,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
Alphaville,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deakin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
The Pretty Things,
David Bowie,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Throbbing Gristle,
10cc,
The Index,
Gichy Dan,
Circle Jerks,
Cluster,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Kerri Chandler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Organ,
Suburban Knight,
Newcleus,
Deadbeat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Royal Trux,
Bronski Beat,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aloha Tigers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Standells,
Oblivians,
Yaz,
Erasure,
Black Moon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
The Misunderstood,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.