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 Slovakia and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultravox to the dance 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crash Course in Science,
World's Most,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wally Richardson,
Gang Green,
Eddi Front,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Trumans Water,
Leonard Cohen,
Minutemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
Morten Harket,
Howard Jones,
Little Man,
Tears for Fears,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric Dolphy,
Blossom Toes,
Fugazi,
Warren Ellis,
Pulsallama,
The Offenders,
Loose Ends,
Quadrant,
Unwound,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Victims,
New Order,
the Normal,
the Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Whodini,
Sällskapet,
Quantec,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maurizio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Wells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Derrick May,
Eli Mardock,
Ornette Coleman,
Moby Grape,
Joy Division,
Donald Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.