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 East Timor and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bauhaus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Residents,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
Suburban Knight,
Symarip,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül II,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hasil Adkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Terry Callier,
Funkadelic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Main Source,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang On A Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fugs,
Zero Boys,
Tears for Fears,
The Five Americans,
The Fortunes,
E-Dancer,
Franke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dirtbombs,
Pere Ubu,
Drexciya,
Mantronix,
The Mummies,
Bad Manners,
Drive Like Jehu,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smiths,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
Aswad,
The Evens,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fela Kuti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
The Beau Brummels,
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
Pole,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amazonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.