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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Theoretical Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
ABBA,
New Order,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Au Pairs,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers,
Pole,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marine Girls,
The Fall,
Babytalk,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
Rod Modell,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
The Motions,
Ohio Players,
Scan 7,
Moebius,
The Standells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Motorama,
Urselle,
The Cowsills,
Neil Young,
Von Mondo,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
Ten City,
Lyres,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rosa Yemen,
Ossler,
Brand Nubian,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
Juan Atkins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MDC,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lungfish,
La Düsseldorf,
Cymande,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.