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 Algeria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Unrelated Segments,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scratch Acid,
Masters at Work,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Surgeon,
ABBA,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Hasil Adkins,
Yellowson,
Gang Starr,
These Immortal Souls,
One Last Wish,
The Misunderstood,
Nas,
Goldenarms,
Lower 48,
Amon Düül,
Mad Mike,
Q65,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suicide,
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scion,
The Litter,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalann,
The Mojo Men,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cymande,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Visage,
Rakim,
The Cure,
Moebius,
The Victims,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy Collins,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monochrome Set,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiohead,
Model 500,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.