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 Armenia and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
B.T. Express,
Black Moon,
Average White Band,
Brick,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
China Crisis,
Circle Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
UT,
The Remains,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
In Retrospect,
Man Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
The Sound,
Skaos,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
Gerry Rafferty,
Simply Red,
Outsiders,
Mo-Dettes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Mad Mike,
Swell Maps,
The Vogues,
Spandau Ballet,
Interpol,
Silicon Teens,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Au Pairs,
Prince Buster,
Moebius,
Lalann,
The Litter,
June Days,
Lyres,
Yaz,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
The Slackers,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.