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 Macedonia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hasil Adkins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
John Holt,
Blancmange,
David McCallum,
The Velvet Underground,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Goldenarms,
The Searchers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
John Cale,
Ossler,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Funky Four + One,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Byron Stingily,
The Knickerbockers,
Amon Düül,
Can,
Idris Muhammad,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
T.S.O.L.,
Severed Heads,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
John Lydon,
Thee Headcoats,
Index,
Funkadelic,
Suicide,
Von Mondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Age Steppers,
The Doors,
World's Most,
Nas,
Zero Boys,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Malaria!,
This Heat,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
Erykah Badu,
Yellowson,
Black Flag,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Siglo XX,
Archie Shepp,
Supertramp,
Radio Birdman,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.