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 Togo and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Schoolly D to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monks,
Arcadia,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
Hashim,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cramps,
Boredoms,
Flipper,
Charles Mingus,
Yaz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blake Baxter,
The Associates,
Fugazi,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
Faust,
Oblivians,
New Age Steppers,
Soulsonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Moby Grape,
Iggy Pop,
Cymande,
Alphaville,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gun Club,
Minny Pops,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Sarah Menescal,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Simply Red,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Shuggie Otis,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lightning Bolt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Spoonie Gee,
Main Source,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.