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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Holt 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Martian,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
Bluetip,
The Alarm Clocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cluster,
The Vogues,
Groovy Waters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
EPMD,
Brothers Johnson,
The Residents,
Warsaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Kayak,
The Modern Lovers,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marine Girls,
Maurizio,
Roxy Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül II,
Ultravox,
Eli Mardock,
Lyres,
Magazine,
Chris Corsano,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
Porter Ricks,
The Trojans,
Brick,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
Cheater Slicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Sällskapet,
Skaos,
Pylon,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.