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 Canada and from Cairo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thompson Twins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Susan Cadogan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Motions,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tommy Roe,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
Metal Thangz,
Minnie Riperton,
48th St. Collective,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Nirvana,
Q65,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shoche,
F. McDonald,
Mars,
Von Mondo,
Rod Modell,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slits,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Brothers Johnson,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Shuggie Otis,
Darondo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
E-Dancer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scrapy,
Sex Pistols,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oblivians,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nico,
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
Lyres,
Roxette,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.