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 Ivory Coast and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Eve St. Jones to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Shoche,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ohio Players,
Tim Buckley,
Chris Corsano,
David Axelrod,
Banda Bassotti,
Crooked Eye,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
Panda Bear,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Kaleidoscope,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
The Barracudas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
John Lydon,
Heaven 17,
Bauhaus,
Davy DMX,
Peter & Gordon,
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
MC5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lucky Dragons,
The Move,
Faraquet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cowsills,
Derrick May,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Mandrill,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.