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 Colombia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ten City to the grunge 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
Flipper,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nas,
Buzzcocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
U.S. Maple,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
DJ Style,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
Talk Talk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Copeland,
T. Rex,
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cure,
The Cramps,
Morten Harket,
Iggy Pop,
Dawn Penn,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Modern Lovers,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
Moby Grape,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
Joy Division,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
X-101,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.