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 Vanuatu and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 X-101 to the funk 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
The Fugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Barry Ungar,
cv313,
Peter and Kerry,
Y Pants,
Joey Negro,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Brothers Johnson,
Cameo,
Gang of Four,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
Zero Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Cluster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Inner City,
The Grass Roots,
The Motions,
Todd Rundgren,
Pole,
The Five Americans,
Swans,
Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agent Orange,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke,
Cecil Taylor,
Ken Boothe,
Icehouse,
The Misunderstood,
This Heat,
Lalann,
Sam Rivers,
Shoche,
Alton Ellis,
Nick Fraelich,
Ituana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Oneida,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Half Japanese,
Aural Exciters,
ABBA,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.