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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
the Normal,
The Standells,
Letta Mbulu,
the Fania All-Stars,
LL Cool J,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aloha Tigers,
Von Mondo,
Alphaville,
Tim Buckley,
The Doors,
Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
Blake Baxter,
Eddi Front,
Neu!,
Cybotron,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
Reuben Wilson,
Morten Harket,
Al Stewart,
Black Sheep,
The Zeros,
E-Dancer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Residents,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
This Heat,
Blancmange,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amazonics,
Nick Fraelich,
The Slits,
Wally Richardson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Supertramp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Davy DMX,
Camberwell Now,
Oneida,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.