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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kool Moe Dee to the techno 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Duran Duran,
John Lydon,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
The Happenings,
Scratch Acid,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Brass Construction,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fela Kuti,
The Moody Blues,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
Joensuu 1685,
Wasted Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Birthday Party,
Niagra,
MC5,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kas Product,
Spoonie Gee,
Section 25,
Fad Gadget,
Michelle Simonal,
Archie Shepp,
Groovy Waters,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
Q65,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Pole,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thompson Twins,
The Techniques,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.