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 Armenia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Morten Harket to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Connie Case,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Neon Judgement,
Althea and Donna,
Dennis Brown,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Inner City,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun City Girls,
Second Layer,
ABBA,
The Mojo Men,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camouflage,
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
Roxy Music,
Crime,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
Archie Shepp,
The Fugs,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Supertramp,
John Cale,
Neil Young,
Deadbeat,
Siglo XX,
Guru Guru,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
Lyres,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Brass Construction,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.