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 Tuvalu and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Make Up to the punk 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Black Pus,
Donny Hathaway,
The Kinks,
Joe Finger,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
The Last Poets,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
Nas,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
Rekid,
The Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aloha Tigers,
Ponytail,
UT,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
D'Angelo,
Flash Fearless,
Interpol,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Görl,
Chrome,
The Sound,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
Make Up,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scott Walker,
The Velvet Underground,
Buzzcocks,
Loose Ends,
This Heat,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
Pole,
Eric B and Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Arthur Verocai,
Skaos,
ABC,
Skarface,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.