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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Albert Ayler,
Echospace,
DJ Style,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Subhumans,
Loose Ends,
Model 500,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delta 5,
Jacques Brel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mark Hollis,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Lakeside,
Gang Starr,
Make Up,
Jacob Miller,
Buzzcocks,
Junior Murvin,
The Remains,
Eve St. Jones,
Ludus,
Franke,
Lower 48,
X-102,
Japan,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Aswad,
Malaria!,
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mojo Men,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fugazi,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
The Techniques,
Reagan Youth,
The American Breed,
Scion,
Wire,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Five Americans,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.