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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hoover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Mills,
James White and The Blacks,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
The Buckinghams,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Count Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Toni Rubio,
Mad Mike,
Slave,
Joey Negro,
Davy DMX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Human League,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sight & Sound,
Lakeside,
Negative Approach,
Michelle Simonal,
Nick Fraelich,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Martian,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zapp,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Khruangbin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fugazi,
Cheater Slicks,
X-102,
Delta 5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
The Angels of Light,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cowsills,
Fela Kuti,
Kenny Larkin,
Camberwell Now,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Velvet Underground,
Smog,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.