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 South Africa and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flash Fearless to the crunk 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Marcia Griffiths,
F. McDonald,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hoover,
Tom Boy,
The Sonics,
Second Layer,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marmalade,
Pere Ubu,
Max Romeo,
Yaz,
The Cowsills,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare,
Visage,
Eli Mardock,
Quadrant,
E-Dancer,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T.S.O.L.,
The Velvet Underground,
Lungfish,
Minor Threat,
Motorama,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Selecter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
Wolf Eyes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
Chris Corsano,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
ABC,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
Neu!,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.