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 Belize and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
Japan,
Popol Vuh,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Rekid,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Last Poets,
The American Breed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quando Quango,
Tubeway Army,
The J.B.'s,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moebius,
The Mummies,
Youth Brigade,
Soft Machine,
Magma,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Techniques,
Ossler,
Faust,
The Count Five,
The Martian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pierre Henry,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neu!,
This Heat,
Fad Gadget,
Black Pus,
Animal Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Halsall,
Rufus Thomas,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dirtbombs,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moby Grape,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Schoolly D,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.