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 Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Soft Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
June Days,
The Moody Blues,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sällskapet,
X-Ray Spex,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Terry Callier,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ten City,
David Axelrod,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
The Seeds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Smooth,
ABBA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Vladislav Delay,
Flipper,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Albert Ayler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ronnie Foster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Symarip,
Crime,
Subhumans,
Andrew Hill,
Bluetip,
Negative Approach,
Harmonia,
Bronski Beat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Yazoo,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.