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 Liechtenstein and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Guru Guru,
Pantaleimon,
The Seeds,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aaron Thompson,
Main Source,
Interpol,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Stooges,
Gong,
Das Ding,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Lightning Bolt,
Bad Manners,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rotary Connection,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Bronski Beat,
Scientists,
Rufus Thomas,
Franke,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Suicide,
Sarah Menescal,
Suburban Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.