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 Congo and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Gang Gang Dance to the funk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Neu!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
Massinfluence,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gories,
Cal Tjader,
Sällskapet,
Babytalk,
Agent Orange,
Guru Guru,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
Erykah Badu,
The Evens,
Harmonia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pierre Henry,
Sixth Finger,
Accadde A,
Chris Corsano,
Funky Four + One,
Charles Mingus,
Funkadelic,
Blossom Toes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Faust,
The Techniques,
Bronski Beat,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Robert Wyatt,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
Moby Grape,
Davy DMX,
China Crisis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Saccharine Trust,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalann,
Glenn Branca,
David Axelrod,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blackbyrds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Popol Vuh,
Byron Stingily,
Rufus Thomas,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.