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 Togo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scrapy to the rap 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Barracudas,
The Knickerbockers,
Pussy Galore,
Dark Day,
Stiv Bators,
Stereo Dub,
John Lydon,
Drexciya,
The Dead C,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
The Cure,
Can,
Piero Umiliani,
Henry Cow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Nils Olav,
KRS-One,
Graham Central Station,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres,
Public Enemy,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Little Man,
Jacob Miller,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Country Teasers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Juan Atkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker,
Carl Craig,
Reuben Wilson,
Junior Murvin,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül II,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Terry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pagans,
Laurel Aitken,
Derrick May,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.