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 New Zealand and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 The Searchers to the rock 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Mars,
Absolute Body Control,
ABBA,
Skaos,
Outsiders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Young Rascals,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
Japan,
Anakelly,
Reagan Youth,
Tim Buckley,
X-Ray Spex,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cheater Slicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skarface,
Brand Nubian,
Franke,
Hot Snakes,
The Gories,
Index,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
AZ,
The Kinks,
Royal Trux,
The Pop Group,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Procol Harum,
Supertramp,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
Joe Smooth,
Quadrant,
A Certain Ratio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Davy DMX,
Thee Headcoats,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bronski Beat,
Juan Atkins,
Gang of Four,
JFA,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Görl,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cramps,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.