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 Lesotho and from London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 The Toasters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Harpers Bizarre,
Metal Thangz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grey Daturas,
Monolake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Infiniti,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Black Sheep,
Quando Quango,
UT,
The Young Rascals,
The Neon Judgement,
Anakelly,
Janne Schatter,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Black Moon,
Graham Central Station,
Dark Day,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
Parry Music,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stereo Dub,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sällskapet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Starr,
Laurel Aitken,
Lyres,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Oneida,
Camouflage,
The Pretty Things,
T. Rex,
Cymande,
Urselle,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Minor Threat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Darondo,
the Germs,
Charles Mingus,
ABBA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cal Tjader,
Con Funk Shun,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.