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 Indonesia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Maurizio to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispian St. Peters,
OOIOO,
Country Teasers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Human League,
The Selecter,
Siglo XX,
The Associates,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
The Fugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
Pantytec,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
Carl Craig,
The Monochrome Set,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Easy Going,
Suburban Knight,
Eric Copeland,
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Scion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kas Product,
Schoolly D,
ABBA,
Letta Mbulu,
Boredoms,
The Smoke,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Japan,
DNA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
D'Angelo,
The Electric Prunes,
Oneida,
Don Cherry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.