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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Fania All-Stars to the crunk 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mars,
Stereo Dub,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
Pantytec,
Moebius,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jandek,
Jimmy McGriff,
OOIOO,
Isaac Hayes,
Marine Girls,
Barrington Levy,
Albert Ayler,
Alton Ellis,
Section 25,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echospace,
Shoche,
Nick Fraelich,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Pus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fatback Band,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moleskins,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
Soft Cell,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Erykah Badu,
Kerri Chandler,
Niagra,
X-Ray Spex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacques Brel,
The Human League,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grauzone,
The Five Americans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Dual Sessions,
Nik Kershaw,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.