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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Todd Terry to the rap 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
This Heat,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Remains,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
Black Moon,
Tres Demented,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
the Slits,
Swell Maps,
Outsiders,
Stereo Dub,
Gang of Four,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
MC5,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Velvet Underground,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare,
Robert Wyatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Al Stewart,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Prince Buster,
The Residents,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Newcleus,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
Marshall Jefferson,
Little Man,
Monks,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.