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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the disco 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 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?
Motorama,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Quantec,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Hood,
Nik Kershaw,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
Accadde A,
The Martian,
Monolake,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Aaron Thompson,
Wally Richardson,
Gang Starr,
Depeche Mode,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül II,
Kevin Saunderson,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Iggy Pop,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Searchers,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Terry,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Faraquet,
Alice Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bob Dylan,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
Negative Approach,
Albert Ayler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.