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 Spain and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Ponytail 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
48th St. Collective,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sonics,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pere Ubu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moleskins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Crash Course in Science,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brick,
The Pop Group,
The Associates,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fad Gadget,
Magazine,
Chris & Cosey,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultra Naté,
The New Christs,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Procol Harum,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dave Gahan,
Gichy Dan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Spandau Ballet,
Japan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scientists,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Niagra,
Quantec,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
Lindisfarne,
Black Sheep,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.