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 Tuvalu and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Derrick May,
Con Funk Shun,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
The Names,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Soft Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
The Trojans,
Soul Sonic Force,
cv313,
Swell Maps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joey Negro,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Josef K,
Young Marble Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Axelrod,
Michelle Simonal,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gladiators,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grey Daturas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
China Crisis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Godley & Creme,
New York Dolls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Underground Resistance,
Quadrant,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
B.T. Express,
Bang On A Can,
A Certain Ratio,
The Zeros,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.