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 Pakistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Robert Palmer 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 Archie Shepp to the jazz 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
DJ Style,
The Smoke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Black Flag,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Sam Rivers,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Connie Case,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
Marmalade,
David Bowie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Reagan Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Malaria!,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
World's Most,
The Names,
Henry Cow,
Glenn Branca,
Fear,
Suicide,
Los Fastidios,
Deakin,
Tim Buckley,
Pierre Henry,
Organ,
The Barracudas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
The Cure,
Black Bananas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scrapy,
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.