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 Antigua and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eurythmics to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ituana,
The Evens,
Q and Not U,
The Litter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yellowson,
Simply Red,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eden Ahbez,
The Stooges,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swans,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Move,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Smog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Von Mondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
48th St. Collective,
Little Man,
MC5,
Gong,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Don Cherry,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
B.T. Express,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Duran Duran,
Tomorrow,
Nils Olav,
Wings,
The Smiths,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Khruangbin,
Das Ding,
Barclay James Harvest,
Infiniti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Wells,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.