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 Somalia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 kango's stein massive to the grime 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Khruangbin,
Pierre Henry,
Q and Not U,
The Remains,
Nas,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
The Index,
Ossler,
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-102,
Inner City,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
The Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
Susan Cadogan,
Slick Rick,
The Saints,
The Misunderstood,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Bananas,
The Last Poets,
Stetsasonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Public Image Ltd.,
Animal Collective,
Siglo XX,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
The Count Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
The New Christs,
Peter and Kerry,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doors,
Malaria!,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.