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 Chad and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 X-101 to the crunk 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
John Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siglo XX,
Laurel Aitken,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Qualms,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Easy Going,
Nick Fraelich,
Hardrive,
MDC,
Fela Kuti,
The Vogues,
10cc,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mars,
E-Dancer,
The Velvet Underground,
World's Most,
Agent Orange,
Kayak,
Television Personalities,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Axelrod,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Remains,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Alice Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Khruangbin,
The Star Department,
Porter Ricks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Clarke,
The J.B.'s,
Cecil Taylor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.