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 Israel and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Skriet to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Suburban Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
New Order,
Essential Logic,
Severed Heads,
Godley & Creme,
Audionom,
Gerry Rafferty,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Germs,
The Birthday Party,
Wasted Youth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Zero Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delta 5,
Flipper,
Bluetip,
Soft Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jacques Brel,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Hardrive,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Smog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Joey Negro,
Nick Fraelich,
The Searchers,
Easy Going,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
Sandy B,
Eddi Front,
The Mummies,
Johnny Osbourne,
Q and Not U,
Eric B and Rakim,
Anthony Braxton,
Max Romeo,
Radio Birdman,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
June of 44,
Aaron Thompson,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.