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 Angola and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Blossom Toes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Morten Harket,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Robert Görl,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Slave,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joy Division,
The Moleskins,
Lakeside,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
Rekid,
Niagra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cecil Taylor,
Blancmange,
Outsiders,
Icehouse,
Blossom Toes,
Radio Birdman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
Ronan,
The Pop Group,
Porter Ricks,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
Masters at Work,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
Lower 48,
Jacques Brel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Count Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tomorrow,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magma,
X-102,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.