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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Velvet Underground 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
Aural Exciters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Brand Nubian,
Moebius,
Mad Mike,
Roger Hodgson,
Vladislav Delay,
Pierre Henry,
Ohio Players,
The Slackers,
Peter and Kerry,
Cheater Slicks,
John Lydon,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Wyatt,
DNA,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hoover,
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Iggy Pop,
Franke,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Soul II Soul,
Nas,
Mission of Burma,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quando Quango,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Axelrod,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
KRS-One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.