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 Ethiopia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marvin Gaye to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and an organ 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 spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
The Busters,
Flash Fearless,
8 Eyed Spy,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gories,
Q and Not U,
Skaos,
Dead Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow,
Steve Hackett,
Ludus,
Hoover,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
Minny Pops,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gap Band,
Magma,
Funkadelic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
UT,
Barrington Levy,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Altered Images,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DNA,
Carl Craig,
Mission of Burma,
Inner City,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Organ,
Matthew Bourne,
Thompson Twins,
The Searchers,
Angry Samoans,
The New Christs,
Franke,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Althea and Donna,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
Zero Boys,
Whodini,
Jawbox,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.