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 Saudi Arabia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Golliwogs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
Circle Jerks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yazoo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gichy Dan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Graham Central Station,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scientists,
Black Moon,
Mars,
Kerri Chandler,
DJ Style,
8 Eyed Spy,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
Negative Approach,
Unwound,
Agent Orange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
D'Angelo,
Delta 5,
Kayak,
New Order,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Cymande,
The Victims,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-Ray Spex,
Thompson Twins,
The Young Rascals,
Loose Ends,
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Black Bananas,
David Axelrod,
Tommy Roe,
U.S. Maple,
Ornette Coleman,
Absolute Body Control,
Roxy Music,
ABC,
ABBA,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.