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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Motorama to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Stetsasonic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eurythmics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
Barrington Levy,
The Monochrome Set,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Babytalk,
The Shadows of Knight,
Throbbing Gristle,
Technova,
Todd Rundgren,
Tom Boy,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harpers Bizarre,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
Whodini,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sandy B,
Lindisfarne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Gabor Szabo,
Model 500,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lalann,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mandrill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Underground Resistance,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Style,
Rotary Connection,
The Leaves,
Hashim,
Dual Sessions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Schoolly D,
the Normal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Buckinghams,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Cecil Taylor,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.