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 Haiti and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crooked Eye to the rap 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
Donny Hathaway,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suicide,
Marmalade,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tommy Roe,
The Offenders,
Brass Construction,
Half Japanese,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
John Coltrane,
The Associates,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Guru Guru,
ABBA,
JFA,
Brand Nubian,
Desert Stars,
a-ha,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
DJ Style,
Heaven 17,
Slick Rick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
The Golliwogs,
Masters at Work,
Ossler,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Pretty Things,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Byrd,
Yaz,
Youth Brigade,
AZ,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Scion,
Erykah Badu,
Visage,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gap Band,
Funky Four + One,
Donald Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
Ice-T,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.