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 Netherlands and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Slick Rick,
Deepchord,
Ponytail,
Fat Boys,
Ultra Naté,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
The Blues Magoos,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skaos,
Jeff Mills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
The Cure,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alison Limerick,
Sam Rivers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Inner City,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantytec,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiohead,
Slave,
Goldenarms,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Khruangbin,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Hood,
The Buckinghams,
The Zeros,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
Drexciya,
Scion,
Eric Dolphy,
Pere Ubu,
D'Angelo,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
Model 500,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wings,
Dennis Brown,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
Visage,
Lakeside,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.