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 Azerbaijan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Pantaleimon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
The Buckinghams,
Fluxion,
Isaac Hayes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minor Threat,
the Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quantec,
The Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Khruangbin,
Dual Sessions,
OOIOO,
Mantronix,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
Blossom Toes,
The Smiths,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
Supertramp,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Susan Cadogan,
Peter & Gordon,
Liliput,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
Urselle,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry's Kids,
Oblivians,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bronski Beat,
Outsiders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kas Product,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.