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 Pakistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Residents to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Slits,
Country Teasers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Don Cherry,
Kurtis Blow,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
EPMD,
Jacques Brel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Essential Logic,
The Searchers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Franke,
Outsiders,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
the Normal,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
Josef K,
Robert Görl,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hot Snakes,
La Düsseldorf,
Average White Band,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Second Layer,
Rekid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
Davy DMX,
Howard Jones,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
E-Dancer,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arcadia,
Echospace,
The Evens,
Magazine,
Das Ding,
10cc,
Rufus Thomas,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.