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 Kiribati and from Jakarta.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moebius,
Roxette,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flipper,
Pole,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Underground Resistance,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yusef Lateef,
Ludus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scientists,
Michelle Simonal,
The Zeros,
Fluxion,
Iggy Pop,
The Wake,
Thee Headcoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Panda Bear,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The New Christs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scratch Acid,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Lydon,
Scott Walker,
the Soft Cell,
Scion,
Average White Band,
Rites of Spring,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Darondo,
Wings,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Names,
Bobbi Humphrey,
World's Most,
Sixth Finger,
The Kinks,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.