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 Cyprus and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar 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 Scrapy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
The Fugs,
The Trojans,
Pulsallama,
Lalann,
Yellowson,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Lynne,
Gong,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
Supertramp,
Godley & Creme,
Cecil Taylor,
the Germs,
John Holt,
Tubeway Army,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blossom Toes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
The Selecter,
PIL,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Deakin,
Von Mondo,
Angry Samoans,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Womack,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül,
The Red Krayola,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mummies,
Don Cherry,
X-102,
The Golliwogs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Monks,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.