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 Canada 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 The Mojo Men to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana 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?
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James White and The Blacks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pylon,
The Smiths,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
K-Klass,
In Retrospect,
T.S.O.L.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eurythmics,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
H. Thieme,
Deepchord,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mars,
The Skatalites,
Basic Channel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Organ,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
The Neon Judgement,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Can,
Blancmange,
Essential Logic,
Yellowson,
Crime,
The Golliwogs,
the Slits,
Amon Düül II,
the Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scan 7,
Dawn Penn,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alice Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.