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 Suriname and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the techno 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Ronan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
Grey Daturas,
Black Flag,
Yaz,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Archie Shepp,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Copeland,
Minutemen,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
Scion,
Brick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Clear Light,
Ponytail,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
The Black Dice,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Schoolly D,
The Invisible,
Goldenarms,
World's Most,
Letta Mbulu,
ABBA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unwound,
Idris Muhammad,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
Newcleus,
Harry Pussy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rites of Spring,
Fluxion,
The Associates,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül,
Brand Nubian,
Cymande,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.