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 Lesotho and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rap 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Bobby Sherman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Todd Rundgren,
Make Up,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Television,
Popol Vuh,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
Masters at Work,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
The Walker Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Roxy Music,
Pole,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispian St. Peters,
Negative Approach,
Amon Düül,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joy Division,
Index,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oblivians,
The Slackers,
Althea and Donna,
The Real Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Faraquet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
World's Most,
Todd Terry,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.