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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Oneida,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Divine Comedy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Modern Lovers,
Alice Coltrane,
Smog,
Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Derrick Morgan,
Groovy Waters,
Audionom,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Howard Jones,
The Moleskins,
Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül II,
Absolute Body Control,
The United States of America,
Roxette,
Grauzone,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Funkadelic,
Porter Ricks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
10cc,
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
AZ,
Drexciya,
Technova,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scientists,
Los Fastidios,
Bootsy Collins,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sound,
June of 44,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.