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 Libya and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Real Kids,
The Misunderstood,
Wally Richardson,
Television,
Half Japanese,
Lalo Schifrin,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
Q and Not U,
Dawn Penn,
Monolake,
The Barracudas,
the Bar-Kays,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Music Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mr. Review,
Charles Mingus,
Popol Vuh,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
X-Ray Spex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Susan Cadogan,
Loose Ends,
Yellowson,
Sandy B,
Heaven 17,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
Yazoo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Delta 5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rotary Connection,
Scan 7,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter and Kerry,
The Motions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Association,
U.S. Maple,
Lower 48,
Tears for Fears,
Soulsonic Force,
Quadrant,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
10cc,
Neil Young,
Bad Manners,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Stooges,
Camouflage,
DJ Sneak,
Connie Case,
UT,
the Human League,
Royal Trux,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.