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 Italy and from Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Anthony Braxton,
Wally Richardson,
Pantaleimon,
Suicide,
The Red Krayola,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sex Pistols,
Little Man,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Motorama,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
T. Rex,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Vladislav Delay,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lungfish,
Todd Rundgren,
Vainqueur,
Stiv Bators,
The Associates,
Nik Kershaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Lucky Dragons,
Public Enemy,
Radio Birdman,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mummies,
Negative Approach,
Max Romeo,
Basic Channel,
Camberwell Now,
Sonny Sharrock,
Half Japanese,
The Moody Blues,
Kerri Chandler,
Alice Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators,
Joyce Sims,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
The Slackers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pierre Henry,
Ituana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
MDC,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
MC5,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.