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 Brunei and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Donald Fagen 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 Kerri Chandler to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kas Product,
Sugar Minott,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Golliwogs,
The Real Kids,
AZ,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Clear Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Ken Boothe,
The Neon Judgement,
Quadrant,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cluster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Al Stewart,
Monolake,
Skarface,
Stiv Bators,
Little Man,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amon Düül II,
Joe Smooth,
Pagans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Excepter,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Henry Cow,
Skriet,
Interpol,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Main Source,
The Sound,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
Altered Images,
The Detroit Cobras,
Curtis Mayfield,
Prince Buster,
the Slits,
David Axelrod,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.