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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Infiniti,
The Cowsills,
Silicon Teens,
Black Bananas,
Terry Callier,
Pussy Galore,
David McCallum,
Lalann,
kango's stein massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
The Misunderstood,
The American Breed,
The Grass Roots,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
Jacob Miller,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
Lightning Bolt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liliput,
Ohio Players,
Terrestrial Tones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Funky Four + One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
Cluster,
Bill Near,
Slave,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerri Chandler,
Main Source,
the Human League,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Babytalk,
Fad Gadget,
Pierre Henry,
Aloha Tigers,
Sparks,
E-Dancer,
The Divine Comedy,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.