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 Ghana and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Ultravox to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Shuggie Otis,
Soul II Soul,
Desert Stars,
Cluster,
Pagans,
The Offenders,
Oneida,
The Selecter,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Thee Headcoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hashim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Human League,
The Leaves,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
The Associates,
Eric Copeland,
Young Marble Giants,
Vainqueur,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
Trumans Water,
Pierre Henry,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vladislav Delay,
Gregory Isaacs,
Babytalk,
Frankie Knuckles,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lower 48,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
Byron Stingily,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.