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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Count Five to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Sisters of Mercy,
Alphaville,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
FM Einheit,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Cell,
Reuben Wilson,
Sex Pistols,
The Count Five,
Brand Nubian,
Infiniti,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faraquet,
Bauhaus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brass Construction,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter and Kerry,
Newcleus,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Lungfish,
Skriet,
OOIOO,
Boz Scaggs,
The Durutti Column,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terrestrial Tones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.