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 Australia and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Bootsy Collins to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lyres,
Boz Scaggs,
Janne Schatter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gladiators,
Procol Harum,
Country Teasers,
The Martian,
Zero Boys,
Hashim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Donald Byrd,
Fluxion,
Unrelated Segments,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television Personalities,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Das Ding,
Essential Logic,
Sonic Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Aaron Thompson,
Porter Ricks,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Absolute Body Control,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tim Buckley,
Main Source,
Patti Smith,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Inner City,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jawbox,
La Düsseldorf,
The Five Americans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reagan Youth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Delta 5,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.