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 Burkina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Anakelly to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
David Bowie,
Mandrill,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eric Copeland,
Faust,
Avey Tare,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dave Gahan,
Byron Stingily,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
Radio Birdman,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cramps,
Skriet,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Shoche,
Boredoms,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed,
Urselle,
Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Smog,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Grass Roots,
Easy Going,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Icehouse,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quando Quango,
Goldenarms,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Toasters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scrapy,
The Gladiators,
Hashim,
Au Pairs,
Scientists,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.