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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Tremeloes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ice-T,
Sexual Harrassment,
Das Ding,
Technova,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
Bill Near,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang On A Can,
Nirvana,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Babytalk,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blackbyrds,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cymande,
Smog,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
The Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
In Retrospect,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reagan Youth,
Aswad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Sam Rivers,
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bauhaus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pagans,
Scott Walker,
Derrick May,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Glenn Branca,
Traffic Nightmare,
Steve Hackett,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Move,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.