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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 China Crisis to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül II,
Pylon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masters at Work,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terry Callier,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy Collins,
Charles Mingus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Anakelly,
OOIOO,
The Gun Club,
Brand Nubian,
Maurizio,
The Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
Dual Sessions,
Ronan,
Roxette,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
Alison Limerick,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
World's Most,
Simply Red,
U.S. Maple,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Idris Muhammad,
Con Funk Shun,
Crash Course in Science,
The Misunderstood,
Angry Samoans,
Smog,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gong,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.