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 Benin and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DJ Sneak to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Agent Orange,
Trumans Water,
The Grass Roots,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
These Immortal Souls,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
ABC,
Altered Images,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Holt,
David McCallum,
Jawbox,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
Liliput,
Boz Scaggs,
Scott Walker,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Teasers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Little Man,
Man Parrish,
Brand Nubian,
Jesper Dahlback,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Animal Collective,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Intrusion,
The Offenders,
Half Japanese,
Silicon Teens,
Brick,
The Cramps,
The Toasters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pretty Things,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.