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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rakim 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Cure,
Anthony Braxton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sugar Minott,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Interpol,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Davy DMX,
CMW,
Rites of Spring,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
The Kinks,
Little Man,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minnie Riperton,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
Soulsonic Force,
Scott Walker,
Basic Channel,
John Lydon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
Accadde A,
The Saints,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.