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 Belarus and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Doors to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Mission of Burma,
Curtis Mayfield,
Visage,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Moon,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Symarip,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
New Age Steppers,
John Cale,
Anakelly,
Nils Olav,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
The Wake,
New Order,
Ludus,
Lakeside,
Radio Birdman,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Scientists,
Joy Division,
The Gories,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
Matthew Bourne,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett,
Hashim,
Youth Brigade,
Inner City,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Busters,
T. Rex,
Ultra Naté,
Eden Ahbez,
B.T. Express,
David Axelrod,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
New York Dolls,
Sarah Menescal,
Mars,
Oblivians,
The Durutti Column,
David Bowie,
JFA,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Yaz,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.