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 United Kingdom and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Agitation Free to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moby Grape,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
Siglo XX,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
Arab on Radar,
Rakim,
Niagra,
The Cramps,
The Zeros,
Sun City Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Eddi Front,
Malaria!,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dark Day,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantytec,
Spoonie Gee,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Janne Schatter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Image Ltd.,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
Black Moon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Happenings,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
Cybotron,
One Last Wish,
the Soft Cell,
Average White Band,
The Victims,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.