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 Malta and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grunge 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Depeche Mode,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
kango's stein massive,
Vladislav Delay,
Pole,
This Heat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Litter,
Joyce Sims,
New Age Steppers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Underground Resistance,
Magma,
Quando Quango,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
Ultravox,
X-102,
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scratch Acid,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Easy Going,
The Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.