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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Minor Threat,
Gerry Rafferty,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed,
Roger Hodgson,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Hill,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Yusef Lateef,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Supertramp,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
Alphaville,
Anthony Braxton,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
Spandau Ballet,
Reagan Youth,
Pantaleimon,
The Neon Judgement,
Stiv Bators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
LL Cool J,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marine Girls,
Little Man,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
Eric B and Rakim,
Niagra,
Drexciya,
Massinfluence,
Cal Tjader,
Circle Jerks,
Archie Shepp,
The Saints,
Swell Maps,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantytec,
Erasure,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Almond,
Erykah Badu,
Fugazi,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.