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 Switzerland 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dawn Penn to the dance 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drexciya,
The Index,
Zapp,
The Trojans,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Bourne,
Juan Atkins,
The Zeros,
Ossler,
Don Cherry,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skarface,
Agitation Free,
Howard Jones,
The Tremeloes,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Public Enemy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Amon Düül II,
Michelle Simonal,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
June of 44,
The Motions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure,
Warren Ellis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Camouflage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
Scratch Acid,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
Soul Sonic Force,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.