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 Uzbekistan and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 The Neon Judgement to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
Monks,
John Holt,
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
New York Dolls,
Ice-T,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eurythmics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
One Last Wish,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Nick Fraelich,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Glenn Branca,
Hashim,
Simply Red,
EPMD,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
Crime,
Flipper,
Khruangbin,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rotary Connection,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
The Human League,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fatback Band,
Swans,
Zero Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Unwound,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funkadelic,
New Order,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.