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 Oman and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes 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 Johnny Osbourne to the rap 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
The Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Pus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
The Real Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slackers,
Little Man,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Siglo XX,
Derrick May,
Wally Richardson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed,
Mantronix,
Whodini,
Stiv Bators,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gerry Rafferty,
Outsiders,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Das Ding,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Holt,
Erasure,
The Seeds,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grauzone,
Sam Rivers,
Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.