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 Eritrea and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Prince Buster 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Brick,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soulsonic Force,
JFA,
Bill Wells,
Au Pairs,
Agitation Free,
Warren Ellis,
Mandrill,
Henry Cow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
The Saints,
Zero Boys,
Sam Rivers,
The Cowsills,
Royal Trux,
Alphaville,
Sun City Girls,
Al Stewart,
Basic Channel,
DNA,
Aswad,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
ABBA,
Nas,
Barrington Levy,
Von Mondo,
Angry Samoans,
Buzzcocks,
Janne Schatter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
Half Japanese,
Marine Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
World's Most,
Ken Boothe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Letta Mbulu,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris & Cosey,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Barracudas,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.