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 Serbia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Ronnie Foster to the electroclash 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Loose Ends,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Eddi Front,
Clear Light,
Pagans,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Toni Rubio,
Erasure,
Adolescents,
Sam Rivers,
Harry Pussy,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marine Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Graham Central Station,
The Offenders,
La Düsseldorf,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gories,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sparks,
The Associates,
Lower 48,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Zapp,
ABC,
Oblivians,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.