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 Namibia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
R.M.O.,
cv313,
MC5,
Country Teasers,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Smiths,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Blues Magoos,
Bluetip,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Normal,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camberwell Now,
Black Flag,
The Selecter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Searchers,
The J.B.'s,
Visage,
Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
Agitation Free,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Marcia Griffiths,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
Monolake,
The Human League,
Saccharine Trust,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
Black Sheep,
Blake Baxter,
The Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
The Wake,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Don Cherry,
ABBA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alton Ellis,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.