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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Josef K to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lungfish,
Swell Maps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Shoche,
the Fania All-Stars,
EPMD,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-Ray Spex,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cecil Taylor,
Joe Finger,
This Heat,
Yaz,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
The United States of America,
Public Image Ltd.,
Silicon Teens,
Eurythmics,
Y Pants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
China Crisis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
Darondo,
Trumans Water,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joey Negro,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
KRS-One,
Hot Snakes,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Hill,
Letta Mbulu,
Supertramp,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers,
The Victims,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth,
Iggy Pop,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.