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 Senegal and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Move to the disco 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
H. Thieme,
Rufus Thomas,
Maurizio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scientists,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Simply Red,
Franke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stereo Dub,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
kango's stein massive,
F. McDonald,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
Nils Olav,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Bob Dylan,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Görl,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
the Association,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
The Skatalites,
Cheater Slicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
Interpol,
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
Cybotron,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.