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 Austria and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jandek to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Brand Nubian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Knickerbockers,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
The Martian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Buzzcocks,
Sex Pistols,
Zapp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dead Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Archie Shepp,
Wasted Youth,
K-Klass,
Bob Dylan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Roger Hodgson,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Godley & Creme,
Theoretical Girls,
The Leaves,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Iggy Pop,
Babytalk,
The Human League,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25,
Aural Exciters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Camberwell Now,
The Moody Blues,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Janne Schatter,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter & Gordon,
Yaz,
Andrew Hill,
The Happenings,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.