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 Jamaica and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Beau Brummels to the dance 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Lynne,
This Heat,
The Wake,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
K-Klass,
Von Mondo,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
The Gun Club,
Anakelly,
Archie Shepp,
Cymande,
Absolute Body Control,
Tres Demented,
Howard Jones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radio Birdman,
Metal Thangz,
U.S. Maple,
Moby Grape,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fear,
Surgeon,
Infiniti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David McCallum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Piero Umiliani,
Magazine,
Echospace,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Anthony Braxton,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
Average White Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.