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 Korea North and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Nas to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
the Germs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Association,
Eric Dolphy,
Von Mondo,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soft Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
The American Breed,
Idris Muhammad,
Scott Walker,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Standells,
Matthew Halsall,
Max Romeo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Carl Craig,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
The Vogues,
Skaos,
Quantec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Henry Cow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magazine,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Blossom Toes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Chrome,
Pantytec,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mandrill,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
Theoretical Girls,
The Invisible,
Magma,
Flash Fearless,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
Steve Hackett,
Sonic Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.