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 Macedonia and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Grandmaster Flash to the grunge 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Prince Buster,
Alphaville,
The Misunderstood,
Yusef Lateef,
Albert Ayler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Godley & Creme,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Techniques,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-102,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Infiniti,
X-101,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
The Offenders,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABC,
Banda Bassotti,
Buzzcocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ludus,
The Doors,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Susan Cadogan,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Main Source,
Fad Gadget,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rotary Connection,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Normal,
Accadde A,
Joey Negro,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.