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 South Africa and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ultra Naté to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
Lower 48,
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Names,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Von Mondo,
Depeche Mode,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Camberwell Now,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Fluxion,
The Knickerbockers,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
The Divine Comedy,
John Holt,
Sam Rivers,
Nico,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fuzztones,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Make Up,
The Young Rascals,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
Marine Girls,
Bauhaus,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare,
Siglo XX,
Archie Shepp,
PIL,
Sandy B,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Clarke,
Barbara Tucker,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Near,
Monks,
Motorama,
Skriet,
The Gladiators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
FM Einheit,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.