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 Portugal and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joey Negro to the disco 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
Dark Day,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
Mantronix,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
Livin' Joy,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
JFA,
Quando Quango,
Hot Snakes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lakeside,
June of 44,
Charles Mingus,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
B.T. Express,
Boz Scaggs,
The Tremeloes,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
The Busters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Erasure,
Nik Kershaw,
The Toasters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Delta 5,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
The Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Royal Trux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Womack,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Green,
In Retrospect,
Zapp,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Terry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.