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 Belize 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Vladislav Delay to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Simply Red,
The Smiths,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Halsall,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Wyatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lungfish,
Tomorrow,
Glenn Branca,
Arab on Radar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Mantronix,
Mad Mike,
Alton Ellis,
Leonard Cohen,
Scion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fear,
Ultravox,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
New York Dolls,
the Swans,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Names,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang of Four,
Jandek,
The Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
Alice Coltrane,
Zapp,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.