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 Ecuador and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Wire 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Liliput,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Index,
a-ha,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
This Heat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
The Skatalites,
Ponytail,
Joy Division,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
PIL,
Grauzone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dennis Brown,
8 Eyed Spy,
Intrusion,
Donald Byrd,
Ronan,
the Bar-Kays,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gun Club,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Little Man,
Skarface,
Marc Almond,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Remains,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano,
Brand Nubian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soulsonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rotary Connection,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Aswad,
Easy Going,
Don Cherry,
Tommy Roe,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Rakim,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.