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 Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Erykah Badu to the disco 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Hoover,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Royal Trux,
Malaria!,
Howard Jones,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker,
Dennis Brown,
Clear Light,
Darondo,
Country Teasers,
Suicide,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Bluetip,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Icehouse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Parrish,
Johnny Clarke,
The Vogues,
Archie Shepp,
Letta Mbulu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Radio Birdman,
JFA,
The Neon Judgement,
Alison Limerick,
Lyres,
Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Mars,
10cc,
The Standells,
Roxette,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jerry's Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Skarface,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
B.T. Express,
T. Rex,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.