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 China and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Zapp,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Skriet,
The Trojans,
Anthony Braxton,
Yellowson,
Letta Mbulu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
Duran Duran,
Donny Hathaway,
Surgeon,
The Cure,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
D'Angelo,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alison Limerick,
Jandek,
Harmonia,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Scan 7,
Matthew Halsall,
Aural Exciters,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
The Martian,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
Patti Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
The Saints,
Cymande,
Laurel Aitken,
The Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
The Golliwogs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Connie Case,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Amazonics,
The Music Machine,
Mantronix,
Shuggie Otis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.