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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Sun Ra to the funk 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Pet Shop Boys,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ohio Players,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
Rekid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Axelrod,
Mandrill,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Moby Grape,
The Busters,
Mr. Review,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Wells,
Moss Icon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radio Birdman,
H. Thieme,
Ponytail,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Görl,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
Stiv Bators,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
Niagra,
Rakim,
Amazonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roy Ayers,
the Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
The Searchers,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
Grey Daturas,
Magazine,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.