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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
Technova,
Lucky Dragons,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Moebius,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
Eric Copeland,
Fluxion,
Roger Hodgson,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
Deepchord,
Wally Richardson,
U.S. Maple,
Dave Gahan,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
Whodini,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Parry Music,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Goldenarms,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Rundgren,
Quantec,
Vainqueur,
Laurel Aitken,
Arcadia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
One Last Wish,
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lungfish,
The Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Q65,
The Toasters,
The Move,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.