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 Angola and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cowsills to the punk 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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funkadelic,
David Bowie,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Al Stewart,
Circle Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
Tomorrow,
The Leaves,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mojo Men,
Barry Ungar,
Dual Sessions,
Subhumans,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
The Music Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Blancmange,
John Holt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nico,
The Gladiators,
Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nils Olav,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
Ken Boothe,
Interpol,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gories,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.