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 Sweden and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camouflage to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Babytalk,
The Walker Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
Basic Channel,
Visage,
Skaos,
Bad Manners,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arab on Radar,
Joy Division,
Black Pus,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
The Barracudas,
Bob Dylan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Darondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Buzzcocks,
Moebius,
The Knickerbockers,
Oneida,
cv313,
Masters at Work,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
The Monks,
Quadrant,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
Joyce Sims,
Icehouse,
The Five Americans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
The Invisible,
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
MDC,
Public Enemy,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Derrick May,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.