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 Bangladesh and from Stockholm.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Sneak,
Kerrie Biddell,
Judy Mowatt,
The Residents,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scan 7,
One Last Wish,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills,
The Busters,
Fela Kuti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Negative Approach,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
KRS-One,
Wasted Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Metal Thangz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Byron Stingily,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Techniques,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Marvin Gaye,
Laurel Aitken,
The Star Department,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quadrant,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
FM Einheit,
10cc,
Warsaw,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Lee Hazlewood,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.