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 Macedonia and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Siglo XX to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Suicide,
Main Source,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Cale,
Flash Fearless,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gichy Dan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crooked Eye,
Kas Product,
Roxette,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
Gong,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas,
Morten Harket,
The Fuzztones,
The Happenings,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Qualms,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
This Heat,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David McCallum,
The Remains,
Television Personalities,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Rundgren,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Porter Ricks,
Ten City,
Suburban Knight,
Barclay James Harvest,
Technova,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Victims,
Livin' Joy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slits,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Agent Orange,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.