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 Philippines and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Darondo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glenn Branca,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Zero Boys,
The Martian,
Gabor Szabo,
The Names,
K-Klass,
Barrington Levy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tommy Roe,
the Slits,
Chris & Cosey,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hardrive,
T.S.O.L.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper,
Ornette Coleman,
Severed Heads,
Junior Murvin,
AZ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Audionom,
Lyres,
The Misunderstood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Rundgren,
ABBA,
MDC,
Wire,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Interpol,
Wally Richardson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harmonia,
The Knickerbockers,
Matthew Bourne,
Bronski Beat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
This Heat,
Lower 48,
The Mummies,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lungfish,
Idris Muhammad,
Stetsasonic,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.