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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Count Five to the techno 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mark Hollis,
Archie Shepp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T. Rex,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Malaria!,
Agitation Free,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Leonard Cohen,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reuben Wilson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
Tim Buckley,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
Bob Dylan,
Outsiders,
Circle Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
the Normal,
Tears for Fears,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Henry Cow,
Sun Ra,
Janne Schatter,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
X-101,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Wyatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Youth Brigade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Duran Duran,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.