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 Brunei and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Radio Birdman to the funk 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
David Bowie,
John Cale,
Neil Young,
Arcadia,
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Niagra,
Yaz,
Shuggie Otis,
Oblivians,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hasil Adkins,
Infiniti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Accadde A,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fugs,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Stooges,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
The Five Americans,
Rekid,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
Zapp,
Deakin,
Gang Green,
Godley & Creme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Quadrant,
Marvin Gaye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.