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 Bahamas and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Roxy Music,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
The New Christs,
OOIOO,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kas Product,
Kaleidoscope,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
The Smiths,
The Names,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
Qualms,
The Trojans,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Techniques,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Durutti Column,
Gichy Dan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yaz,
New Order,
Sister Nancy,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slave,
David Bowie,
Jimmy McGriff,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
The Move,
Panda Bear,
Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang On A Can,
Shuggie Otis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Freddie Wadling,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore,
Ice-T,
Gabor Szabo,
The Raincoats,
Yazoo,
Absolute Body Control,
Funkadelic,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.