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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Goldenarms to the rap 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Altered Images,
The Cramps,
Max Romeo,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Roxette,
Connie Case,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxy Music,
Gichy Dan,
Morten Harket,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Mr. Review,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Althea and Donna,
UT,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Cameo,
In Retrospect,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
H. Thieme,
Barrington Levy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moebius,
Mad Mike,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
Ronnie Foster,
FM Einheit,
The Moleskins,
Arthur Verocai,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Techniques,
Moss Icon,
The Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
The Grass Roots,
Wire,
Funkadelic,
Half Japanese,
Ituana,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.