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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cecil Taylor to the rock 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rotary Connection,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Alphaville,
kango's stein massive,
Fugazi,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pagans,
The Evens,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Surgeon,
Man Parrish,
Joensuu 1685,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
Eli Mardock,
Pylon,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Black Dice,
Yusef Lateef,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
ABC,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marmalade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brand Nubian,
The Last Poets,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Move,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gabor Szabo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liliput,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Stiv Bators,
the Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Funky Four + One,
Joe Finger,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.