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 Chad and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the techno 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Residents,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soulsonic Force,
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
The Knickerbockers,
Connie Case,
Fort Wilson Riot,
kango's stein massive,
Bang On A Can,
Thompson Twins,
Flipper,
Amazonics,
Shuggie Otis,
The Techniques,
Unwound,
Moss Icon,
Duran Duran,
Roger Hodgson,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
Amon Düül II,
Drexciya,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronnie Foster,
Spandau Ballet,
Rufus Thomas,
Pierre Henry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Boz Scaggs,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moody Blues,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boredoms,
Erasure,
Y Pants,
The Grass Roots,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bauhaus,
L. Decosne,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faust,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.