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 Chad and from Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Pierre Henry,
Mandrill,
The Names,
Cluster,
Silicon Teens,
Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stetsasonic,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gladiators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smoke,
Basic Channel,
Hasil Adkins,
Brand Nubian,
a-ha,
Stereo Dub,
Bronski Beat,
John Foxx,
Y Pants,
Nas,
FM Einheit,
Susan Cadogan,
Pagans,
Surgeon,
Mo-Dettes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric Dolphy,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Iggy Pop,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Prince Buster,
Scratch Acid,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ludus,
Darondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Juan Atkins,
Underground Resistance,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eli Mardock,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Smog,
Pulsallama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.