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 Solomon Islands and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wally Richardson,
David Axelrod,
Arthur Verocai,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Qualms,
Simply Red,
Accadde A,
The Skatalites,
Alphaville,
Cybotron,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Stiv Bators,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
The Zeros,
Soulsonic Force,
Hasil Adkins,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun City Girls,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
Jandek,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Surgeon,
Cluster,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
Don Cherry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Niagra,
Unrelated Segments,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric Copeland,
The United States of America,
Nation of Ulysses,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
Quantec,
Blake Baxter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
Banda Bassotti,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Wells,
The Standells,
Y Pants,
Dennis Brown,
Crooked Eye,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.