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 Korea North and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sly & The Family Stone 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moody Blues,
Half Japanese,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Freddie Wadling,
David Axelrod,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
H. Thieme,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mojo Men,
Ronan,
Arthur Verocai,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
The Dead C,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
Sixth Finger,
The Blackbyrds,
Motorama,
Piero Umiliani,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Panda Bear,
Pole,
Wolf Eyes,
Howard Jones,
Dead Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Newcleus,
Donald Byrd,
Organ,
Lou Reed,
Easy Going,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.