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 France and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swell Maps to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Buzzcocks,
Circle Jerks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mission of Burma,
Mr. Review,
Pantaleimon,
Altered Images,
E-Dancer,
The Selecter,
Yaz,
Harmonia,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
Reuben Wilson,
Basic Channel,
Pulsallama,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
Television Personalities,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pole,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
EPMD,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Spoonie Gee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blancmange,
June of 44,
Joe Finger,
Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispian St. Peters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soulsonic Force,
Q65,
the Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Echospace,
Alison Limerick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ken Boothe,
The Searchers,
Von Mondo,
Max Romeo,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.