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 Iran and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Alphaville,
Masters at Work,
Soul Sonic Force,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
Make Up,
Mo-Dettes,
Reuben Wilson,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
Alison Limerick,
The Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Todd Rundgren,
Livin' Joy,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
Scan 7,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Laurel Aitken,
The Skatalites,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stereo Dub,
Girls At Our Best!,
Juan Atkins,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Axelrod,
Ornette Coleman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
Wasted Youth,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joyce Sims,
Ponytail,
Tubeway Army,
Stiv Bators,
Byron Stingily,
The Wake,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.