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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Curtis Mayfield to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Heaven 17,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
Skaos,
The Barracudas,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Intrusion,
Danielle Patucci,
World's Most,
Dennis Brown,
Motorama,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott Heron,
Q65,
Audionom,
Gang Starr,
Qualms,
The Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
Little Man,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Matthew Halsall,
The Standells,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Gerry Rafferty,
Connie Case,
Faust,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soulsonic Force,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
a-ha,
Tommy Roe,
Marvin Gaye,
Quando Quango,
Deepchord,
New York Dolls,
Althea and Donna,
Skarface,
John Lydon,
Derrick Morgan,
Crime,
Accadde A,
In Retrospect,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.