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 Chile and from New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells to the rap 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Vladislav Delay,
PIL,
Cluster,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Dennis Brown,
Das Ding,
The Smoke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
Main Source,
T.S.O.L.,
The Angels of Light,
Bang On A Can,
David McCallum,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mummies,
Sugar Minott,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Kayak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faust,
The Human League,
Unrelated Segments,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
Mr. Review,
Bill Near,
Soft Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scrapy,
Arab on Radar,
Silicon Teens,
Judy Mowatt,
Pere Ubu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Young Rascals,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wolf Eyes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Fraelich,
Rapeman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Freddie Wadling,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Anakelly,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.