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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Patti Smith 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eve St. Jones,
Minny Pops,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Black Moon,
Pussy Galore,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marine Girls,
KRS-One,
The Searchers,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Moby Grape,
Vainqueur,
Television Personalities,
Nas,
The Cowsills,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Hot Snakes,
China Crisis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wally Richardson,
Tears for Fears,
In Retrospect,
Qualms,
Little Man,
The Leaves,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Model 500,
The Golliwogs,
Magma,
The Monochrome Set,
Dawn Penn,
Lakeside,
Yellowson,
X-102,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
The Red Krayola,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oblivians,
The Tremeloes,
Porter Ricks,
Delta 5,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.