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 Portugal and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Whodini to the crunk 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Radiohead,
Heaven 17,
Kaleidoscope,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
The Angels of Light,
The Divine Comedy,
Letta Mbulu,
Pierre Henry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Urselle,
Roy Ayers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Underground Resistance,
Sarah Menescal,
Warren Ellis,
Ludus,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Dead Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joensuu 1685,
Popol Vuh,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hashim,
The Evens,
Livin' Joy,
Ultravox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sight & Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
Bill Wells,
Laurel Aitken,
Audionom,
The Barracudas,
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Skatalites,
R.M.O.,
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gladiators,
Skarface,
Minnie Riperton,
Deakin,
Harry Pussy,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Aural Exciters,
Yaz,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.