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 United Kingdom and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Derrick May,
The Dead C,
Idris Muhammad,
Television Personalities,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television,
Ultravox,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fear,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
Eurythmics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Franke,
The Move,
Lou Reed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Niagra,
Index,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Standells,
T. Rex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
Harpers Bizarre,
Basic Channel,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Panda Bear,
kango's stein massive,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Eddi Front,
Tubeway Army,
Flamin' Groovies,
Theoretical Girls,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roger Hodgson,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Red Krayola,
Zero Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.