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 Mali and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
These Immortal Souls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Parry Music,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monochrome Set,
Sight & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Pantytec,
Organ,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
JFA,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
China Crisis,
Soft Machine,
Joy Division,
The Neon Judgement,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Bill Wells,
Iggy Pop,
Yellowson,
The Raincoats,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Byron Stingily,
John Lydon,
Bronski Beat,
In Retrospect,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
The Index,
CMW,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
A Certain Ratio,
Sällskapet,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Litter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
The Fortunes,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
The Knickerbockers,
Toni Rubio,
Zero Boys,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare,
The Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
Brand Nubian,
Sun Ra,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.