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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the techno 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane 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?
Isaac Hayes,
Shuggie Otis,
T.S.O.L.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Searchers,
Soulsonic Force,
Ponytail,
Janne Schatter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Althea and Donna,
Kaleidoscope,
Tommy Roe,
Gong,
Guru Guru,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Talk Talk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-102,
Suburban Knight,
Sonny Sharrock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Soft Cell,
The Monks,
The Martian,
Slave,
John Lydon,
Barbara Tucker,
Pantytec,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
Moby Grape,
Ultravox,
E-Dancer,
The Standells,
Joensuu 1685,
Lightning Bolt,
Fela Kuti,
The Blues Magoos,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DNA,
Arthur Verocai,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fire Engines,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.