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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Television to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Five Americans,
Scott Walker,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Cell,
Soulsonic Force,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Jawbox,
Sam Rivers,
Jandek,
Infiniti,
Boz Scaggs,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris Corsano,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Womack,
Harmonia,
Masters at Work,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
KRS-One,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
The Modern Lovers,
Thompson Twins,
Chrome,
Carl Craig,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alphaville,
Steve Hackett,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aloha Tigers,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Derrick May,
Mandrill,
Public Enemy,
Gong,
Television,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
Essential Logic,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
Section 25,
Idris Muhammad,
Archie Shepp,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.