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 Milan.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blossom Toes to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Golliwogs,
Joy Division,
Mo-Dettes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heaven 17,
Crime,
Technova,
Audionom,
Judy Mowatt,
Panda Bear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amazonics,
Jawbox,
Ronan,
David Axelrod,
Don Cherry,
The Associates,
Susan Cadogan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
Yazoo,
The Cowsills,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Soulsonic Force,
The Techniques,
Magma,
T.S.O.L.,
Delta 5,
The Fugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Second Layer,
The Fuzztones,
The Cure,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marvin Gaye,
PIL,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
Masters at Work,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Blancmange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barbara Tucker,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.