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 Qatar and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba 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 Whodini to the grime 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quantec,
CMW,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joensuu 1685,
Whodini,
Ronan,
Bob Dylan,
Moebius,
Stiv Bators,
Ultra Naté,
Faraquet,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Michelle Simonal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Fela Kuti,
Albert Ayler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dave Clark Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
The Invisible,
Hoover,
Lightning Bolt,
Agitation Free,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Sherman,
Magma,
Blake Baxter,
The Mojo Men,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Procol Harum,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Swans,
Minor Threat,
Lalann,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.