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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fire Engines to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
Cymande,
Deepchord,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Certain Ratio,
the Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
The Knickerbockers,
the Slits,
Talk Talk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
The Last Poets,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magma,
Liliput,
Black Flag,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Crash Course in Science,
Flash Fearless,
F. McDonald,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smoke,
Television,
Nas,
Dennis Brown,
The Music Machine,
Organ,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Ossler,
Ronnie Foster,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Copeland,
Sam Rivers,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Whodini,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Altered Images,
Suburban Knight,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.