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 Japan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Colin Newman to the grunge 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Cluster,
Pantaleimon,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
LL Cool J,
Isaac Hayes,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers,
The Grass Roots,
The Busters,
Cal Tjader,
The Beau Brummels,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Mission of Burma,
The Mummies,
Sister Nancy,
Inner City,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Velvet Underground,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
The United States of America,
Ice-T,
Boredoms,
Ultra Naté,
In Retrospect,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Aswad,
The Gladiators,
Gang Starr,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Public Image Ltd.,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Sarah Menescal,
Arab on Radar,
Ralphi Rosario,
8 Eyed Spy,
Das Ding,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.