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 Costa Rica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Near to the funk 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Scrapy,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
Jerry's Kids,
Pulsallama,
Flash Fearless,
The Smiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha,
PIL,
Sparks,
Sixth Finger,
D'Angelo,
Boz Scaggs,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
The Velvet Underground,
Stockholm Monsters,
Von Mondo,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
Theoretical Girls,
Index,
Moby Grape,
Desert Stars,
Howard Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Avey Tare,
Babytalk,
UT,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Royal Trux,
The Martian,
Hashim,
B.T. Express,
Erasure,
Stetsasonic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Slackers,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
Lungfish,
Lou Christie,
Minny Pops,
Colin Newman,
Fela Kuti,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.