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 El Salvador and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Darondo to the jazz 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain 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?
Easy Going,
Little Man,
Harmonia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
Kas Product,
Lou Reed,
Nico,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anthony Braxton,
Amazonics,
The American Breed,
Country Teasers,
Archie Shepp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
The Sonics,
AZ,
Avey Tare,
The Fortunes,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Main Source,
DJ Style,
Gang Starr,
Hoover,
Shuggie Otis,
Bob Dylan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Al Stewart,
Scratch Acid,
Sister Nancy,
Hardrive,
These Immortal Souls,
World's Most,
Terry Callier,
Arcadia,
The Gun Club,
Todd Terry,
Cymande,
Das Ding,
Franke,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Althea and Donna,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-102,
Crime,
Q and Not U,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.