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 Malta and from London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Archie Shepp to the dance 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
Sister Nancy,
Slave,
Gong,
Index,
Ohio Players,
The American Breed,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Severed Heads,
The Black Dice,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Tubeway Army,
Nirvana,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
The Pop Group,
Toni Rubio,
Wings,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deakin,
Trumans Water,
Au Pairs,
The Music Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amon Düül II,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick May,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
Motorama,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jandek,
Scrapy,
The Gladiators,
Ultravox,
Scion,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.