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 Liberia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 Monks 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Index,
June Days,
LL Cool J,
The Raincoats,
Thompson Twins,
Tears for Fears,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crash Course in Science,
Livin' Joy,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marvin Gaye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Reuben Wilson,
Scan 7,
Nils Olav,
The Associates,
Das Ding,
Sonny Sharrock,
This Heat,
The Monks,
Robert Hood,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Bananas,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skarface,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kas Product,
Blossom Toes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Kinks,
Sparks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.