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 Ecuador and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Symarip,
Hot Snakes,
F. McDonald,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Pantaleimon,
Das Ding,
Bill Wells,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Loose Ends,
Marvin Gaye,
A Certain Ratio,
Con Funk Shun,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hoover,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pole,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
cv313,
New Age Steppers,
Jandek,
JFA,
Wire,
Deepchord,
Faraquet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Audionom,
D'Angelo,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dawn Penn,
Scan 7,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
Ituana,
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
Lindisfarne,
The Busters,
Bobby Womack,
Arcadia,
The Offenders,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Saccharine Trust,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Youth Brigade,
ABBA,
Thee Headcoats,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.