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 Nauru and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Zapp to the electroclash 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Magma,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warren Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
The Pop Group,
Alphaville,
La Düsseldorf,
June of 44,
Bob Dylan,
June Days,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
Vladislav Delay,
The Smoke,
Drexciya,
Al Stewart,
Spoonie Gee,
Darondo,
The Evens,
Lungfish,
Swans,
Amon Düül,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Maleditus Sound,
MC5,
Symarip,
the Normal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Davy DMX,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
Sixth Finger,
Kayak,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Carl Craig,
Nas,
The Litter,
Juan Atkins,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Angels of Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed,
Gong,
Reagan Youth,
Faust,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.