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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Aswad to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Juan Atkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alton Ellis,
The Doors,
Funky Four + One,
Johnny Clarke,
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
Eric Dolphy,
Radiohead,
Rosa Yemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
Quantec,
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Make Up,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Wyatt,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
Brothers Johnson,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Masters at Work,
The Blackbyrds,
48th St. Collective,
Thompson Twins,
Susan Cadogan,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Archie Shepp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Morten Harket,
Jacob Miller,
Porter Ricks,
The Music Machine,
Audionom,
Blancmange,
Oneida,
Todd Terry,
Rekid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Sheep,
MC5,
Bill Near,
K-Klass,
Ken Boothe,
The Invisible,
MDC,
Harry Pussy,
Lee Hazlewood,
ABC,
Q and Not U,
Bush Tetras,
Shoche,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.