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 Korea North and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Names to the grunge 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare,
Mission of Burma,
Pharoah Sanders,
Altered Images,
La Düsseldorf,
Ten City,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Essential Logic,
T. Rex,
The Star Department,
Soft Machine,
Icehouse,
Inner City,
The Electric Prunes,
The Techniques,
Alice Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
Joensuu 1685,
This Heat,
the Sonics,
Swell Maps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
Model 500,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Mad Mike,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Style,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Sherman,
Visage,
Ossler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Urselle,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moss Icon,
Television,
Al Stewart,
Throbbing Gristle,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.