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 Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Aswad to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Alison Limerick,
Joe Smooth,
Skarface,
Jeff Lynne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sällskapet,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
Faust,
KRS-One,
The Cure,
David McCallum,
Fugazi,
Altered Images,
Accadde A,
The Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
Eurythmics,
Fear,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Au Pairs,
Marmalade,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fela Kuti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Niagra,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
Shuggie Otis,
Boredoms,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
Nirvana,
Black Bananas,
Hashim,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool Moe Dee,
Goldenarms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
China Crisis,
Audionom,
Gang Gang Dance,
Unrelated Segments,
Tubeway Army,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thee Headcoats,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.