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 Ukraine and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 DJ Sneak to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Teasers,
The Misunderstood,
Anakelly,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Yellowson,
Malaria!,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Duran Duran,
Rapeman,
Vladislav Delay,
Arcadia,
Niagra,
The Angels of Light,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Davy DMX,
Grey Daturas,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
China Crisis,
Delta 5,
Funky Four + One,
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
Barclay James Harvest,
Main Source,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Model 500,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Erykah Badu,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Young Rascals,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
Marshall Jefferson,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.