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 Australia and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Technova to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The Star Department,
X-Ray Spex,
John Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Real Kids,
Accadde A,
Chrome,
The Monochrome Set,
Cymande,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
Supertramp,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Royal Trux,
Lou Christie,
Joe Smooth,
Al Stewart,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Rundgren,
Juan Atkins,
the Soft Cell,
Silicon Teens,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Massinfluence,
D'Angelo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Womack,
The Music Machine,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Pulsallama,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABC,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monks,
Alton Ellis,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.