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 Honduras and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Kurtis Blow to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cure,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Inner City,
CMW,
Joey Negro,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
Cecil Taylor,
Crime,
R.M.O.,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Moss Icon,
Duran Duran,
In Retrospect,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
Oneida,
Gong,
Soulsonic Force,
Newcleus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Agent Orange,
Lou Christie,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lower 48,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Angels of Light,
Slave,
Outsiders,
Ludus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Godley & Creme,
E-Dancer,
The Martian,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
Funky Four + One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Average White Band,
Little Man,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lindisfarne,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.