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 Guinea-Bissau and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Pretty Things,
Dawn Penn,
X-Ray Spex,
Qualms,
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ossler,
Eli Mardock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Visage,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
Pere Ubu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nils Olav,
The Barracudas,
Ronnie Foster,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ituana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monochrome Set,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus,
Eric Copeland,
Dave Gahan,
Sister Nancy,
John Cale,
X-101,
Basic Channel,
Sonny Sharrock,
UT,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lou Reed,
La Düsseldorf,
Schoolly D,
Marmalade,
Negative Approach,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
Leonard Cohen,
Albert Ayler,
The American Breed,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.