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 India and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Gichy Dan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Josef K,
Toni Rubio,
The Neon Judgement,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Machine,
Connie Case,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eurythmics,
Essential Logic,
Graham Central Station,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mantronix,
Prince Buster,
Dual Sessions,
Spandau Ballet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Order,
Sparks,
Roxette,
Soulsonic Force,
The Wake,
Absolute Body Control,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Selecter,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Das Ding,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Drexciya,
The Zeros,
Mad Mike,
DJ Sneak,
Leonard Cohen,
The Saints,
Fad Gadget,
John Cale,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.