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 Burundi 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Roger Hodgson to the rock 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
Judy Mowatt,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
The Leaves,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Near,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Idris Muhammad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Niagra,
Nas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
Nik Kershaw,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zapp,
The Moleskins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Wells,
LL Cool J,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doors,
Marine Girls,
Hoover,
Shoche,
Motorama,
Eddi Front,
Yellowson,
X-101,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Piero Umiliani,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Mills,
Charles Mingus,
The Tremeloes,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
Visage,
The Move,
Public Enemy,
Negative Approach,
Icehouse,
Cheater Slicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.