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 Mexico and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marmalade 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Morten Harket,
Sun City Girls,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Average White Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra,
Lyres,
The Gories,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
the Slits,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Index,
Ituana,
Dark Day,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blossom Toes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Minny Pops,
Ultravox,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
Bluetip,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
Cheater Slicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Desert Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joe Smooth,
In Retrospect,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Terry,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
Interpol,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Neon Judgement,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.