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 Uganda and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 La Düsseldorf to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quantec,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Swans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jerry's Kids,
Sister Nancy,
Eddi Front,
The Names,
R.M.O.,
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
The Buckinghams,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Roxette,
Eden Ahbez,
DNA,
Joy Division,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
Saccharine Trust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül II,
Mark Hollis,
Underground Resistance,
The Raincoats,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aloha Tigers,
Shuggie Otis,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Martian,
kango's stein massive,
Ohio Players,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.