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 India and from New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 AZ to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic 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?
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Delta 5,
Franke,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Starr,
Skriet,
48th St. Collective,
Guru Guru,
Wings,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kenny Larkin,
Tears for Fears,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sound,
Monolake,
Henry Cow,
Parry Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
the Human League,
Gong,
Carl Craig,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gabor Szabo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
Eddi Front,
Lakeside,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Average White Band,
Lyres,
The Doors,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wasted Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kayak,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Blossom Toes,
Model 500,
Index,
Panda Bear,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Near,
Byron Stingily,
Thompson Twins,
Boz Scaggs,
Funky Four + One,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.