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 Iraq and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
David Bowie,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lindisfarne,
Symarip,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scientists,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
The Move,
Angry Samoans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
The Saints,
Zero Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Intrusion,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Enemy,
DNA,
Lower 48,
Black Bananas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mojo Men,
Wally Richardson,
Derrick Morgan,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth,
This Heat,
Cecil Taylor,
Laurel Aitken,
Pylon,
The Happenings,
Thompson Twins,
Babytalk,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.