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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 X-101 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
L. Decosne,
Maurizio,
The Music Machine,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris & Cosey,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eden Ahbez,
Janne Schatter,
David Axelrod,
Nick Fraelich,
Quantec,
Ornette Coleman,
Ice-T,
Laurel Aitken,
Malaria!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Cramps,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
Magazine,
Average White Band,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Sällskapet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Certain Ratio,
Popol Vuh,
Swell Maps,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
The Happenings,
Mad Mike,
Eric Dolphy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
Rod Modell,
Radio Birdman,
Unrelated Segments,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.