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 Bulgaria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Shuggie Otis to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Moebius,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane,
Mars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Techniques,
The Shadows of Knight,
Trumans Water,
Pussy Galore,
The Young Rascals,
Smog,
Das Ding,
Slave,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Pulsallama,
Mandrill,
The Saints,
Kerri Chandler,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Accadde A,
Idris Muhammad,
Surgeon,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
Pagans,
Los Fastidios,
Public Enemy,
Erykah Badu,
the Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
Unrelated Segments,
Pole,
Harmonia,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Al Stewart,
The Fugs,
Ronnie Foster,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
D'Angelo,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
Quando Quango,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.