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 United States and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
Mr. Review,
Davy DMX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Hood,
X-102,
Can,
Tim Buckley,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Barry Ungar,
The Fuzztones,
The Motions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Monks,
Oneida,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon,
Godley & Creme,
Anthony Braxton,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
The Real Kids,
E-Dancer,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Howard Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alton Ellis,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
Ken Boothe,
U.S. Maple,
Infiniti,
The Pop Group,
Mark Hollis,
Shuggie Otis,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Barclay James Harvest,
Charles Mingus,
Whodini,
Liliput,
The Techniques,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.