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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Rundgren to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
Ohio Players,
Pagans,
Radio Birdman,
The Monochrome Set,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Rotary Connection,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
Half Japanese,
Chris Corsano,
Ronnie Foster,
The Toasters,
Ultra Naté,
Basic Channel,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
Organ,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lyres,
Harmonia,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Erasure,
The Remains,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Gong,
The Saints,
Make Up,
Audionom,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
Alphaville,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
Stetsasonic,
Vladislav Delay,
Prince Buster,
Don Cherry,
the Normal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
The Offenders,
Jandek,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.