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 Iran and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Eli Mardock,
The Victims,
New Order,
Nik Kershaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Cameo,
Metal Thangz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soft Machine,
Q and Not U,
Public Enemy,
Robert Görl,
Sixth Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
E-Dancer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Busters,
Skriet,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
Arab on Radar,
Barrington Levy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
Piero Umiliani,
Althea and Donna,
Moss Icon,
Zero Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Peter and Kerry,
Bronski Beat,
John Lydon,
Malaria!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris & Cosey,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
Jandek,
Mo-Dettes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hoover,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.