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 Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Simply Red to the jazz 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ronnie Foster,
Alton Ellis,
La Düsseldorf,
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Howard Jones,
Wings,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Yaz,
Second Layer,
Pagans,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joe Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Make Up,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
Charles Mingus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camouflage,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Au Pairs,
Supertramp,
Minutemen,
K-Klass,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Sound Behaviour,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flipper,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Qualms,
Deakin,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
The Gories,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson,
Joyce Sims,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.