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 Maldives and from Beijing.
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 Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Jeff Mills to the dance 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
the Association,
Index,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Newcleus,
Gichy Dan,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Roxy Music,
Little Man,
Mark Hollis,
Colin Newman,
Alphaville,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
Masters at Work,
Al Stewart,
Schoolly D,
Whodini,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
The Vogues,
Flash Fearless,
Audionom,
Niagra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marine Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eurythmics,
DJ Sneak,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Wyatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Sandy B,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
Isaac Hayes,
Malaria!,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hashim,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.