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 Burundi and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cure 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Prince Buster,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Pus,
Cluster,
Blancmange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Colin Newman,
Soulsonic Force,
Hashim,
Newcleus,
Outsiders,
Robert Hood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
Dead Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
H. Thieme,
Skarface,
Supertramp,
Don Cherry,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Robert Wyatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Main Source,
Whodini,
Toni Rubio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alton Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joe Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Soft Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
Hardrive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Index,
Matthew Bourne,
Au Pairs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.