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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the funk 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Soulsonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
Icehouse,
Ossler,
Junior Murvin,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Germs,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donald Byrd,
Lakeside,
Deadbeat,
Neu!,
Audionom,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Image Ltd.,
June of 44,
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
World's Most,
Al Stewart,
AZ,
Pet Shop Boys,
Smog,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
The Remains,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Wyatt,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick Morgan,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
Excepter,
The Neon Judgement,
Pagans,
Grauzone,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Brothers Johnson,
Negative Approach,
Matthew Bourne,
Qualms,
Fad Gadget,
Letta Mbulu,
Dark Day,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.