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 Macedonia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Chris Corsano,
Rosa Yemen,
Depeche Mode,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
Pylon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Theoretical Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Parry Music,
Massinfluence,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hot Snakes,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
X-102,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lalann,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harmonia,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lungfish,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
Deepchord,
Matthew Bourne,
Morten Harket,
The Misunderstood,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
cv313,
Zapp,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Angels of Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Chrome,
Rotary Connection,
Desert Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alton Ellis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.