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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ 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 Cecil Taylor to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Hashim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
The Music Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
Cybotron,
Underground Resistance,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Crime,
Susan Cadogan,
AZ,
The Pretty Things,
Marvin Gaye,
Maurizio,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Infiniti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
Cal Tjader,
Mantronix,
The American Breed,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
the Germs,
Theoretical Girls,
Supertramp,
Gerry Rafferty,
This Heat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
L. Decosne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
The Techniques,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Fela Kuti,
Black Flag,
Country Teasers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Royal Trux,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.