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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Walker Brothers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Desert Stars,
The Fortunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Real Kids,
Slick Rick,
Skaos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Idris Muhammad,
Liliput,
Marmalade,
Spandau Ballet,
One Last Wish,
Agent Orange,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
Cecil Taylor,
Eli Mardock,
Yaz,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Slave,
Ludus,
Fela Kuti,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Ronnie Foster,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Roxette,
Deadbeat,
Nick Fraelich,
Kaleidoscope,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
The Names,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Modern Lovers,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Cymande,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Trumans Water,
Moby Grape,
Crooked Eye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Bob Dylan,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.