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 Solomon Islands and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Donald Byrd to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Skarface,
Arab on Radar,
Bob Dylan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
Siglo XX,
June of 44,
One Last Wish,
Eric Copeland,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mummies,
Freddie Wadling,
The Last Poets,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fuzztones,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Womack,
Junior Murvin,
Lungfish,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Tim Buckley,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Albert Ayler,
Public Enemy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
Hardrive,
The Sound,
Negative Approach,
UT,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Bill Near,
Little Man,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
Kas Product,
Jacques Brel,
Blancmange,
The Standells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Prince Buster,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.