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 Kosovo and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Sound to the techno 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu 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?
Sam Rivers,
Outsiders,
Camberwell Now,
Pole,
Scan 7,
The Monochrome Set,
The Martian,
Echospace,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
Khruangbin,
Warsaw,
Unwound,
Barrington Levy,
The Electric Prunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
The Buckinghams,
MDC,
Bootsy Collins,
Skaos,
Eurythmics,
The Grass Roots,
the Slits,
Heaven 17,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
K-Klass,
Roger Hodgson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Leaves,
Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Kayak,
Scott Walker,
Piero Umiliani,
Aural Exciters,
Ice-T,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wally Richardson,
Max Romeo,
OOIOO,
Todd Terry,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Man Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Marmalade,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fluxion,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Scientists,
kango's stein massive,
Scion,
Bill Near,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.