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 Bangladesh and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Derrick May to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne,
Lightning Bolt,
Mo-Dettes,
Dark Day,
Ten City,
Aural Exciters,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Simply Red,
Eric Dolphy,
The Misunderstood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yazoo,
The Blues Magoos,
Marine Girls,
Whodini,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Pole,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cramps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liliput,
Inner City,
U.S. Maple,
The Gories,
The Dave Clark Five,
The United States of America,
Ludus,
the Germs,
The Alarm Clocks,
DJ Sneak,
Nils Olav,
James White and The Blacks,
Joe Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Cybotron,
Funkadelic,
Robert Hood,
Toni Rubio,
Severed Heads,
Model 500,
La Düsseldorf,
Sugar Minott,
Radiopuhelimet,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Ituana,
Deepchord,
The Divine Comedy,
Kerri Chandler,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fall,
Eden Ahbez,
Cal Tjader,
Dawn Penn,
the Soft Cell,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.