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 Netherlands and from Winnipeg.
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 Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Accadde A,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Half Japanese,
The Stooges,
Tommy Roe,
The Martian,
Pole,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Green,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Selecter,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
T.S.O.L.,
Severed Heads,
Quadrant,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
Clear Light,
Khruangbin,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Second Layer,
Supertramp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Darondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
Y Pants,
K-Klass,
Nils Olav,
Quantec,
Rakim,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
R.M.O.,
The J.B.'s,
The Kinks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
Swell Maps,
New York Dolls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.