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 Russia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Das Ding,
Arab on Radar,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slits,
The Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Organ,
H. Thieme,
Alice Coltrane,
Piero Umiliani,
Aswad,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
The Cramps,
Lalann,
Soul II Soul,
Peter & Gordon,
Matthew Halsall,
Lindisfarne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roger Hodgson,
Agitation Free,
Jerry's Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Aural Exciters,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
Deakin,
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mummies,
Tears for Fears,
Pulsallama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suicide,
Amon Düül II,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
Inner City,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.