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 Turkey and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bobby Sherman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Albert Ayler,
The Stooges,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-Ray Spex,
the Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Yazoo,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fuzztones,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sällskapet,
Dark Day,
10cc,
Patti Smith,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wire,
Deadbeat,
Talk Talk,
EPMD,
Amon Düül II,
Pagans,
Mars,
Fugazi,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Funkadelic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Section 25,
World's Most,
Sparks,
Minnie Riperton,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Rundgren,
Jawbox,
Arthur Verocai,
Grauzone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Yellowson,
Black Bananas,
Interpol,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.