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 Venezuela and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gerry Rafferty to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Johnny Clarke,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Frankie Knuckles,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Model 500,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
Fatback Band,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
Neu!,
the Swans,
DNA,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
The Young Rascals,
The Smoke,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
One Last Wish,
U.S. Maple,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris Corsano,
Masters at Work,
The Moody Blues,
The Knickerbockers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
PIL,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerrie Biddell,
Leonard Cohen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ten City,
Ash Ra Tempel,
La Düsseldorf,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
Scion,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.