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 Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Lalann to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Traffic Nightmare,
Simply Red,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Brass Construction,
Procol Harum,
Television,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sound Behaviour,
Isaac Hayes,
Charles Mingus,
The Mummies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David Axelrod,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
The Invisible,
Erykah Badu,
John Coltrane,
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Eve St. Jones,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Lower 48,
Barclay James Harvest,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
Cameo,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
Pussy Galore,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Almond,
The Durutti Column,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Germs,
The Leaves,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Music Machine,
Brand Nubian,
One Last Wish,
Duran Duran,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.