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 Morocco and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Todd Rundgren to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Litter,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
Boogie Down Productions,
Public Enemy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Byron Stingily,
KRS-One,
China Crisis,
Ituana,
Mo-Dettes,
Dead Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Loose Ends,
Yaz,
Minnie Riperton,
Siglo XX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Lou Reed,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ice-T,
Hashim,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
Curtis Mayfield,
CMW,
Black Sheep,
Eric Dolphy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joyce Sims,
Radiohead,
Dark Day,
John Foxx,
Livin' Joy,
F. McDonald,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
The Smoke,
Aural Exciters,
Dual Sessions,
Al Stewart,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.