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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
the Germs,
kango's stein massive,
Blancmange,
Nirvana,
Ice-T,
Eden Ahbez,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lindisfarne,
Franke,
A Certain Ratio,
Donny Hathaway,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
The Dirtbombs,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
Swell Maps,
The Leaves,
John Coltrane,
Bluetip,
The Trojans,
Jeff Lynne,
The Black Dice,
Dorothy Ashby,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Sheep,
B.T. Express,
X-Ray Spex,
U.S. Maple,
Roy Ayers,
Arthur Verocai,
Freddie Wadling,
The Techniques,
Funkadelic,
Unwound,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül II,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mojo Men,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
Camouflage,
Half Japanese,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
The Walker Brothers,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.